Zahra Lahgazi
by TheOneWhoRulesThemAll
Summary: A new Animus was created three years ago, one that held a complete history of the world using the genetic memories of every living being. And as punishment for burning down an ancient library, Zahra is the guinea pig. Oh joy. [constantly being edited]
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed in any way, shape or form. That belongs to Ubisoft.

I do own Zahra Lahgazi and any characters that were not in the original games.

TheOneWhoRulesThemAll: My Author Notes will be placed at the bottom of the chapters if necessary and will contain anything that I believe necessary in terms of history or questions that need to be answered. The updating of this story will be sporadic and often very far apart as I have no plan for this story and am sort of making it up as I go along. With that being said, it is still one of the best things I have written to date.

Also, I constantly go through things I have written and edit, so please send me a review if you find a mistake. Please. I have three betas - I guess - and I still find mistakes!

Anyway:

_Huzzah!_

* * *

Chapter One

Zahra Lahgazi was not, as some would say, a happy camper. At the moment she was trying her hardest to find a way to create an aura that would kill anything that came near her.

She glared at the blinding hospital lights above her. It seemed that they were purposely faulty, trying their hardest to make her five days strapped to the bed as uncomfortable as possible. It was bad enough that she was unable to move even her head but with the constant sound of nurses interrupting her whenever she attempted to meditate the boredom away and the incessant flickering of the lights she was at her wits' end. Every single movement she laid her eyes on seemed to be a personal insult towards her.

As mentioned before, she was not the happiest fifteen year old in the world.

A rattling echoed in through the open door from the corridor. It was the nurse; a small woman of no more than thirty who tried to make Zahra's life as horrible as possible. If Zahra had been able to move she would have thrown her pillow at the woman so she would get angry and carry Zahra into solitary confinement where there was no noise whatsoever. That would be heaven.

"Alrighty boys and girls, it is time for some of you to get out since we need these beds for the newbies who got decked by Sordine." Weary cries of joy filled the air from the twenty occupants of the room. "Don't get too happy; only seven of you are leaving. The rest of you still have some patching up to do after all the trouble you caused on that train wreck of a mission. How you guys managed to mess up so badly is beyond me." The nurse muttered irritably. Her words caused groans of annoyance to fill the air. Zahra inwardly cringed; she had caused the most damage to the old castle out of everyone. The Master had not been happy with her botching the job to such a monumental scale. The only reason she _wasn't_ in solitary confinement for a month was because of her being the one to dispatch the target in the end.

"Here are the lucky kiddos who get to leave while the rest of you get to stay here and have some more therapy to pay for your crimes: Alack, Jason; Aoumthanon, Aof – honestly, who named you girl? Do your parents hate you?" An annoyed growl rose from the very back of the room. The nurse clicked her tongue in response. "Keep your powder dry; you don't have enough energy to be angry. Next is Barnes, Joshua; Kaller, Liz; Michealis, Sebastian; Naider, Shamal and Phillio, Bob. Well there you have it, kiddies. As for the rest of you, get ready for a few more days of fun. The releasers will be around shortly." The nurse smiled sadistically at the happy exclamations from the people who would be leaving and the tired moans from those that would be subjected to the torture of flickering lights for at least another two days.

Chinese water torture was a walk in the park compared to those florescent bulbs.

_'Why me?' _Zahra lamented. She couldn't even voice her frustration because of the sedatives holding her still; they were enough to tranquilize an elephant. '_Damn that Templar. Why did he put up so much of a fight? Wasn't it obvious that he was going to lose? This is entirely his fault. He was the one that made me knock that lantern. It's not like I was purposely trying to set the library on fire.'_

Near silent footsteps broke her pity party. Entering the room was the Master and her worst nightmare, Maria-Bloody-Thorpe; the slime ball of a female who had managed to leave Zahra to face the highly ranked Templar alone and get away with it. How she wanted to slit that smug brunette's throat right then and there.

"Lahgazi?" The Master's voice was a soothing rumble. Sadly Zahra was unable to reply.

"There she is, Master. Fifth bed on the left. The one with the ugly bruise on her jaw." Maria pointed in her direction.

_'If you hadn't ditched me in the library with that bastard Templar I wouldn't have this bruise you wench.' _Zahra snarled. The Master nodded and strode across the room to where the Moroccan girl laid, her eyes flashing angrily. He was a tall man with a small goatee and piercing green eyes that stared at her without betraying a single emotion.

"Lahgazi, you realise that you destroyed over a five centuries worth of knowledge when you burnt down the library?" Zahra found it hard to stop herself from closing her eyes. Though his face revealed nothing, the tone he was using was something she hated. He was disappointed in her. Next to him, Maria was watching Zahra's discomfort with sadistic pleasure.

The Master nodded when he saw Zahra's guilty expression. "Good, you at least have the sense to feel bad for what you have done. Now I will need you to come with me immediately. I have a mission for you that I am sure will prove to be an adequate punishment. I have already called the releasers; they shall be here –" six black clad men walked in through the open door, "now." He waved one of the men over. The releaser quickly pressed his palm into the side of the bed where a scanner took in his palm print. The silhouette that was left behind when he removed his hand blinked green and the IV drip that was feeding Zahra sedatives shut off. The releaser brought out a syringe. As soon as it pierced her blood stream a burst of energy flooded her veins.

"Come with me." Zahra jumped up and followed him out the room. Angry moans from the poor souls who were still trapped followed her. She smirked at a man who sent her a death glare.

The Master led her through the corridor, turning several times as they walked further into the complex. The recuperation room that Zahra had been in, most commonly referred to as the torture chamber – it was absolutely agonising for the active members of the Brotherhood to be stuck in a room with no weapons and unable to move for extended periods of time – was the closest all access room to the centre of the large compound.

The complex consisted of dorms, training rooms, offices, laboratories, hospital wings and whatever else the builders had been told to install, the centre being the rooms that required a security clearance above trainee Assassin to access. It was massive, over one thousand metres in area. And that was just the multi-storey main building. Around the edges of the compound were more buildings used for everything from mass warfare games to sanctuaries for the older members to relax. The buildings were all made out of the highest quality supplies. The Master's predecessor was not one to spare any expense, especially when it came to oak panels for every single wall.

"What's my target?" Zahra cut to the chase.

"Ten men. Templars."

"Location?"

"The Holy Land."

Zahra frowned; places like Jerusalem hadn't been called the Holy Land for many years. Where was this going?

"Objective?"

"To take them down as quickly and efficiently as possible without rousing suspicion from the local inhabitants." The Master recited through the mandatory rule for all operations, evoking an urge to roll her eyes in Zahra. He stopped walking outside a modest wooden door. "Maria, take this to Jake. He is in need of it." He handed the short brunette a small file which she took with pride. Zahra watched her flounce through the doorway with utter contempt.

The Master began down the hall again and Zahra hurried to catch up. He continued to speak in that low, soothing tone of his, describing more details of the operation. "You will also need to avoid a certain group of men. They are quite easy to spot. They have long white robes and a blood red sash around their waist which marks them out from normal scholars. This should be enough for you to make yourself invisible to them." Now she was really confused. Nowadays scholars just wore jeans and t-shirts, not long white robes. Was he talking about a different time frame?

"Contacts? Names?"

"You will have a notebook that shall detail everything you need to do. Other than that you are on your own."

Zahra nodded in affirmation even though she was not entirely satisfied then began to study where they were heading. They had just turned a corner and were now standing in front of a large steel door. The Master placed his hand on a palm scanner which slowly processed his print. A small buzzing sound was made, indicating that the door was open. The Master pushed it open and strode in, leaving the confused fifteen year old to wander in after him.

Inside was a dark, sterile room that was lit by the softly glowing lights of various computer screens. Only three people were there. They sat at small electronic banks like the ones you find in the control room of a space station. In the middle of the room was a low metal structure that looked to be a bed of some sort, lit with eight glowing circles running down the middle.

The Master walked up to one of the workers and tapped him on the shoulder. The young man nodded and began to fiddle around with a few of the knobs on his desk. Zahra watched in awe as a low rumble came from the metal bed as it began to glow and rise further off the ground so it reached waist height. The Master walked towards it and motioned for her to join him.

"This is what you will use to complete your task. Have you heard of the company called Abstergo?"

Zahra nodded her head a little. "Bits and pieces. I know that they created a machine that can allow the user to view the memories of their ancestor called an Animus and that they were trying to make the world a better place until we destroyed them three years ago. No one has told me anything else." He nodded in consent.

"This is a reworked version the Animus. It not only allows you to travel back to the time of your ancestors but instead of being controlled by your relatives' actions you are able to view everything that happened first hand in your own body. Abstergo managed to collect the genetic memories of everyone in the world through the use of the satellite we crashed, which means that all of history is completely under our control at any time. It doesn't affect our timeline but it does give an insight into what some possible outcomes could have been if different actions could be taken as well as a tool to find out information that would have otherwise been lost from history. Also, it works as a training simulator for those who have been . . ." He narrowed his eyes slightly across the machine at Zahra, "less than satisfactory in their missions. The most important part to this machine is that everything that happens while inside it only takes mere moments to occur in real time. For example, if one was to spend eight years in the machine then it would only take around eight minutes for that person to regain consciousness in reality. You are to be the first to try it out."

_'What!? You want me to be the guinea pig for a machine like this? What if something goes wrong and I am stuck in it for all eternity with nothing but sand and dust for company? The Middle East is not a place I want to spend the rest of my days if it is in the time of robe wearing scholars.' _

Then something clicked in her mind. '_Oh, right, this is punishment for messing up so badly. Wonderful.' _Zahra stared into her Master's eyes and saw the absolute seriousness in them. He was not going to let her back out of it. She nodded reluctantly, trying not to sigh because that would evoke further disappointment from the man. He relaxed slightly and gestured for her to lie down on the machine.

"I am sending you back to the time of 1182." He said as she lay down. "You will start in Damascus with the book I mentioned before. Follow its instructions and you shall be back here within a few months of that time. Good luck." The last thing she saw before a black hatch covered her view was his sadistic smile.

_'Dear lord, what have I gotten myself into? It will only be by pure luck that Maria doesn't find out about this and make my life hell. Hopefully I won't get caught up in the Crusades; that would really ruin my day.'_

* * *

The sun was beating down on Zahra like a drum. She groaned and shifted slightly to release the arm that was trapped under her. It grated painfully as it was dragged across the sand.

_'Wait, sand?'_ Zahra blinked but instantly closed her eyes when the sun nearly blinded her. Around her were the loud sounds of humanity. It sounded strange though; there weren't any sounds of cars or the clack of shoes on concrete. Instead there were sounds of men shouting out for customers to come to their stalls, clucking hens, the clink of armour and weaponry and the rustling of long clothing.

Zahra sat up with a start as she realised where she was. All around her was the city of Damascus. It was a large, sprawling city with high towers that would make good look out points looming over the smaller multi-storey buildings and several distinct districts. From what she could tell she was in the middle district where there was the most noise and merchants trying to sell their wares to the middle class shoppers.

To the east – she was sort of assuming it was the east as that was where the sun was, but in her dizzy state she could have been hallucinating for all she knew – were the Sinan Pasha Mosque and the Formal Gardens, their large thoroughfares full of activity. Woman walked around carrying pots on their heads while men walked in groups or alone, avoiding the thugs who were constantly punching a fist into their open palm and scholars walked in small teams of four with their heads' bowed, wearing pure white robes. Zahra felt disorientated at the sudden change in scenery. Looking around, she noticed that she was sitting on top of a four storey building behind one of the towers. It was completely covered in sand.

The light sound of footsteps warned her of someone coming around the tower. Her eyes widened in fear. Scrambling to her feet she spun around quickly, searching for a place to hide. It came in the shape of a small, square box type hut that would only fit about three people before it would become too crowded. Sprinting over to it, she dived through the curtains that hung from the crossed rafters and crouched down so the small walls that were only about waist height hid her from view.

The footsteps stopped a little ways away. She held her breath in anticipation then exhaled deeply when they started up again, moving away from her. She slumped onto the floor and relaxed in the relief the little hut brought from the sun. After only a few minutes of being outside she was already sweating buckets.

Once she had gained some semblance of comfort her mind turned to more pressing matters like what she was supposed to be doing there.

_'Oh right, the Master wanted me to knock off those ten people for a simulation run. He said I would have a book to help me out . . .' _A painful stabbing suddenly arouse in her lower back. She reached round to pull out whatever was stuck in the holster on her back and brought out a small, solid book the colour of silver. With valid trepidation, her fingers tentatively opened the cover.

_Zahra Lahgazi_

_Welcome to your personal simulation helper. This book shall guide you through everything you need to do while in the Holy Land and all those you need to avoid. To stop you from jumping ahead of schedule and not fully completing the simulation, the guide will only show the pages of the mission you should be performing, not anything else. Now, here are the basic rules:_

_1._ _Do not, under any circumstances, let yourself become known to anyone who could compromise your identity._

_2._ _Do not, under any circumstances, let yourself die before you have killed all targets._

_3._ _Do not, under any circumstances, kill a civilian or a person who is not a threat in any way, shape or form for no apparent reason._

_4._ _Do not, under any circumstances, meet with the organization known as the Assassins. They are the people who set up our organization from the beginning and they could kill you easily, therefore forcing you to break rule 2._

_5._ _Do not, under any circumstances, become emotionally attached to any one person._

_6._ _Do not, under any circumstances, let your target go. Kill them as efficiently as possible without raising suspicion._

_7._ _Do not, under any circumstances, leave the Holy Land. If you do so you shall die and break rule 2._

_Follow these rules and your missions should be straight forward. If you break any one of these rules you shall be sent back to real time then forced to complete the mission from scratch. _

_Mission 1: Tamir_

_Your first mission is to scout out Damascus and find out what you can about the man named Tamir. He should be most prominent in the gossip around the middle district. Use your resources carefully and abide by the rules. Once you have found sufficient data for you to carry out the execution the next step in the mission shall appear. Do not worry, this man, as most of the others, is relatively new to the game of deception and shall not have many guards. Your assassination should be swift and silent. _

_Mercury_

Mercury, what type of name for a book was that? Anyway, the information in it was a lead and it did explain a few things. The rules were relatively simple to keep within as she had been avoiding people and laying low for the better part of her fifteen years of life. The strange part was the fact that Mercury was so adamant about her not being caught be the old Assassins. Surely they should be able to shed some light on the subject of Tamir?

_'No, they wouldn't. They would be too suspicious of a fifteen year old girl to tell her anything at all. There is a reason that they have not been disbanded or destroyed by their enemies yet. They are too good to be found.' _Zahra reasoned with herself. It was stupid for her to even think about going to the Assassins when Mercury had specifically said not to. And she would rather not have to do this again.

With an inward sigh she opened her senses and tried to feel if there were any nearby threats. Finding nothing in the immediate vicinity she leapt gracefully out of the hut and stretched, revelling in the feeling of her taught muscles loosening. She rolled her head on her shoulders but when she looked down at herself she stopped. A small oath escaped her lips. Her outfit was going to attract attention whether she was as silent as the wind or not.

She was decked out in what was definitely not her normal mission attire. It was completely inappropriate for the current time frame. Her hair was dark hair was tied into a plait that ran down her back, hiding the rapier she kept strapped to her spine. A top the colour of dried blood was hooked around her neck; it left her shoulders bare then melted into a tight bodice with flowing sleeves that hid the weapons strapped to her forearms. Around her waist hung a thick leather belt holding a sword – she had no idea how she hadn't noticed it before – six throwing knives, a small dagger and a small bag full of poisonous dust. Fastened over her dark brown leggings were two more knives and a whip that curled around her left thigh. Black leather combat boots rose to her knees.

_'This has to be the most inconspicuous outfit for the middle ages possible. Will I have to steal a cloak now and slowly die from heat stroke?'_

_Yes_

Wonderful, now the book had a sense of humour. What a great way to start the day. All that could make it better would be to run into an assassin on the next roof. She sighed irritably at the way this simulation was probably going to make her life as hard as possible. The wind whipped her long black braid into her face and stung her eyes with sand. A cloak was sounded like a pretty good option at that moment.

With a quick look over the roofs to see if there were indeed any of these inevitable assassins she began to sprint towards the poor district which was easy to see because of the smaller, poorly kept buildings.

Lightly jumping off the edge of the roof and rolling to a stand on the building next door, she found time to marvel at how easy it was to move in the new outfit, even with all the weaponry. Normally she wore tight black pants and crop top with a large back pack for all her supplies but the leggings, the top that fitted like a second skin and the carefully placed artillery made it possible to complete even the most difficult of moves.

With a gleeful smile she sprinted towards one of the town squares between two larger buildings and sprung into the air without a moment's hesitation. She revelled in the feeling of no gravity. She stuck her arms out, twisted to the right, pulled her legs into her chest and grabbed hold of a flag pole that was in the middle of the square. Her momentum sent her spinning around the pole. Timing it perfectly, she let go and flew towards a ladder that would lead her to the rooftops again. She hit it perfectly, making no sound and sending only a faint tremor down the flimsy wood. Scrambling like a spider she made her way up the ladder so she could try out more tricks.

"Hey! You there!" A deep voice rang out from behind her. She looked back and saw that at least five guards had seen her little stunt and were now running towards the ladder. Two more were on the rooftops around the square.

_'This is a problem. The Master is not going to like it if I fail within the first twenty minutes.' _A violent buzzing from her holster indicated that Mercury wouldn't like it either. This was going to be fun. She reached the top of the ladder and jumped atop a small hut to check her surroundings.

Avoiding talking back to the guards would be better than screaming back withering comments at them and if there was anyone else from the compound in the area she would never think twice about it. She had created the reputation of being the child prodigy in all areas and the side effect of that was everyone expected her to be completely focused on the tasks. All she was allowed to get away with were a few smirks at other peoples' mistakes. It was torture, especially for a fifteen year old. Now she was completely free from the stifling reputation and felt ready to let loose. She just hoped that the guards wouldn't be too annoyed.

"You know, a group of men chasing after one woman who is wearing tight clothing and is only fifteen could be really misinterpreted." She taunted at them. This didn't really help the situation because it just egged them on to trap her faster. Not even bothering to suppress the laugh that worked its way up her throat when she saw the guards on the ground falling over themselves in an effort to get to her first she casually flipped off the hut and walked towards the middle of the large roof where she would be able to defend herself the best. The rooftop guards finally reached her and quickly pulled out their swords. She grinned and dropped into a stance, three throwing knives in either hand, ready for some action.

"Who are you?!" One guard yelled even as he was swinging the sword at her head. She jumped back and quickly counterattacked, knocking his sword away then using his momentum to send him tumbling head over heels from a correctly placed elbow in his back.

"Well that wasn't very polite was it? I am a lowly woman aren't I? What would cutting my head off achieve since I wouldn't be able to answer your questions?" She really was confused about why he would be so quick to kill her when all she had done was jump through the square but she didn't bother fighting it. It was much more fun to just get into a good old fashioned brawl.

The other guard looked stunned at her act of violence and the way she actually managed to pull it off well. She just smiled at him sweetly then sent a knife spinning through the air to lodge in his chest. He looked down in surprise and with an unhealthy gurgle he keeled over, dead. A shocked sound came from behind him and Zahra saw that another guard had finally made it up to the roof. Another was coming up behind him and froze at the sight of the body.

Zahra was slightly astonished when she ducked and found a sword being swung over her head. Then again, it wasn't like she should have expected anything less from the guard she had jabbed in the back. Twisting on her heel, she faced the man and quickly threw a punch at his jaw; keeping her remaining knives held carefully away from his face otherwise it would have been very messy. He just had time to throw a hand up and block the attack but could nothing to stop her sweeping his legs out from under him and pushing him to the ground. She stepped on his throat and kept her foot there until he stopped scrabbling at her leg. When she was satisfied that he wouldn't be waking up anytime soon she turned her gaze back to the other five just as one of them tackled her.

"Whoa!" Her back hit the ground with a thump but before the man could get his hands around her throat she planted her feet on his chest and kicked him over her head. She then did a backwards roll over him and ended up straddling his chest – she swore to use the trick again – then proceeded to clap her hands over his temples. His half raised head hit the ground with a thud.

"Wench! Who are you?" A voice called out. The remaining four guards had surrounded her. She grinned up at them and sprang to her feet. Sadly, it seemed that the revered code of villains which is to fight the good guy one by one was not properly adhered to in this simulation reality. All four of them threw themselves at her as one. The onslaught of ducking under swords, slashing them with her knives, kicking them in the shins and constantly dancing out of their reach finally ended in her throwing the knives into their foreheads in one strong flick of both arms. A surge of pride filled her as she admired her handiwork but it was quickly quashed as a shout echoed towards her. She spun around and saw that her fight had not gone unnoticed. Cursing, she gathered up her knives then sprinted away from the mass of Templars that were running in her direction. There must have been at least fifteen of them and Templars were notoriously harder to kill than regular soldiers.

It took a while for her to get out of sight but once she had they left her alone. She realised that she should really get a cloak to cover herself up. Spying an unassuming man walking along the street below her she followed him until he made it to a deserted corner. It wasn't hard to simply stab him in the back and take the cloak. Maybe she should have felt some qualms about killing an innocent but it wasn't hard to remember they weren't real.

_'Now, to the middle district.' _

Once there she found two men who looked suspicious. She sat on a bench and eavesdropped on their conversation, feeling relieved to have found out something so easily.

"What are you saying?" A hissed whisper from the rather fat merchant.

"I told you, I saw Tamir enter into the blacksmith's last week. Then a few days later there was a large shipment of weapons out of the city towards Jerusalem. He must have something to do with the Crusades. You must leave his employment before the Templars catch you, otherwise you will be killed for helping Saladin." The other man was most obviously the merchant's brother. He was slightly skinnier, if only slightly, and bowed his head as he spoke hurriedly.

"No, Tamir has given me the money I need to live comfortably. I am not going to leave just because of something you saw, especially when there is so much in this for me."

"Confront him then! Tell him you know what he is doing and you do not want a part of the weapons side of things. Did you not say you were meeting him tomorrow? Outside the Gardens? Please brother, do not let him rope you into something you will regret!" The brother was looking desperate now but the merchant simply scoffed and stalked off in the other direction. The brother hung his head in despair and walked in the other direction. Zahra blinked in surprise at knowing where Tamir would be so quickly. Normally missions took hours of stake outs and watching people but this time it seemed that the target had fallen right into her lap. She wasn't about to complain though, that would be looking a gift horse in the mouth.

Opening Mercury she saw that the book's words had changed, apart from the set of rules at the top.

_Kill Tamir at the Gardens. This time do not get yourself noticed by the guards otherwise you shall be forced to repeat this again and Tamir will be in a different place. _

Well that would be a bummer to have to restart the whole thing. Maybe Zahra would have to actually try to avoid the guards as well now, instead of just the Templars and Assassins. On a scale from one to ten for difficulty, guards seemed to be about a three, Templar were known to be a seven while Assassins did not have a rating yet. Good thing Zahra was on level eighteen otherwise she would have been scared of going into this. All those years of sparring competitions with Maria were finally paying off (they were definitely not friendly matches).

_'Well, with that out of the way, where am I meant to find somewhere to sleep in this place?' _Zahra groaned at the thought of sleeping outside in a city. It had only taken three campout missions for her to realise that civilization at night was _not_ something she enjoyed spending long lengths of time in.

Mercury was not forthcoming with any information so she just sighed and began to wander aimlessly in the hopes of seeing something worthwhile. There wasn't much she hadn't already seen before. The streets all seemed to be the same; filled with the same thugs; the same guards; the same stalls; everything. It was boring. Being someone in Zahra's line of work had desensitized her to normal things which would cause regular people to gasp in awe. Nowadays she only became impressed if someone managed to kill more than five people with a single arrow. It had happened once.

After she had been in Damascus for about three hours Zahra finally decided that it was time to go to sleep. The sky overhead was fading into darkness rapidly. Spying one of the ever present rooftop huts she quickly scaled a wall and jumped inside. She unbuckled her sword and various other weaponry, laying them out within reach in case of an emergency.

Snuggling down in her large cloak she finally decided to ask Mercury some of the questions that had been plaguing her mind. Taking out the book she held it up to the fading sunlight.

_'Hey, why do people speak English here? Isn't this the Middle East where the native language is Arabic?'_

Words appeared across the blank third page, next to the mission directions.

_This is a simulation. If necessary the language setting can be changed to Arabic but the Animus is hardwired into the most common language used by the user._

Interesting. Granted it was a lot easier than interpreting Arabic all the time but it was still strange for the Master to not order anything that could make the simulation harder to be created. Not that she was complaining.

_'Is there any way to bypass the rules?' _She had to ask it.

_No. Do you really think I would tell you if there was?_

Damn.

The sun was now sinking below the horizon. Zahra sighed and placed the book under her head to keep it safe. With a final glance around the area to make sure there were no guards that would stumble upon her she lay down to sleep. The sand grated against her back and the temperature was dropping rapidly. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Sunlight was what Zahra awoke to the next morning. The bright light of dawn was streaming in through the flimsy curtains of the hut, setting the dancing sand particles that floated in the air alight. Outside the noises of the morning market stalls setting up for the coming day. Chatter from early shoppers was already rising to a peak as some of the citizens tried to get a first look at the merchandise.

Zahra didn't move a muscle as she lay on her side, curled slightly in a ball with her hand resting on the hilt of her sword. Her breathing didn't even hitch. It was a technique that took years to master yet was impossible to forget once learnt. If one was at the enemy's mercy and awoke to the enemy conversing, alerting them of being awake would mean missing out on what could be vital information. Every assassin knew that slipping from light unconsciousness to instant awareness was a vital part of being who they were.

Once evaluating the area and finding no discernible threats close by, she slowly sat up, letting her cloak fall to the ground. After checking Mercury and finding nothing there she gathered her weapons together as quietly as possible and vaulted over the low hut wall and broke out in a dead sprint towards the Gardens.

She leapt over the alleyways and climbed up the walls that blocked her way. This was what she enjoyed most about her job; the pure euphoria that always filled even if she was closing in on her target. Having the wind whipping in her face and her legs beginning to strain against the strenuous activity was just about the only thing she could think of when things she was asked what she liked. That, and beating Maria to a bloody pulp.

All too soon she reached the Gardens. People were filing in from all entrances and leaving as well, occasionally stopping to speak each other or look at the scenery. Here and there were men sitting together talking in low voices. Small pools of water dotted the area as well as small trees and benches to sit on. It was really quite pretty.

And there, in the corner under a tree, was the man who was to meet Tamir, his head bowed low. He was wringing his hands in front of him with nervousness that was easy to see.

Zahra smiled slightly from her spot on one of the higher buildings surrounding the Gardens. She was in the perfect spot to throw a knife into Tamir's neck as soon as he showed up. She reached for the throwing knives at her belt and got into a comfortable position for her hopefully short wait. It was already sweltering under the coat so to amuse herself she began to flip the knife through the air, alternating between catching it by the blade and the handle.

It was a few minutes before Tamir appeared. Zahra caught sight of a rather tall man who wore what some could consider garments of value. But to the experienced eye it was obvious that the gold braid was simply dyed and the rich 'velvet' was a cheap knockoff. It was the mark of someone trying to flaunt how much more powerful he was compared to others and intimidate them with his wealth.

Tamir approached his contact with cocky strides. Zahra rolled her eyes at how easy the man was making the job. With easy movements she flipped the knife once more then let it fly towards her target. Tamir barely let out a noise as it stabbed him in the windpipe, cutting off his air and filling his lungs with blood. Zahra smiled and leapt away before the contact raised the alarm; he looked like he was about to throw up.

It was hard for her to stop from laughing. That had been so ridiculously easy it was hard to believe it had been a job at all. Not even two days had passed since being in 1182 and already she had managed to rid herself of one of ten. This felt too simple. She frowned a little. Was it just plain luck that she had managed to find Tamir on the second day or was there something larger at work here? Was the Master manipulating the game from the outside to give her a false sense of security before throwing her head first into a pit of spikes? It was be just like him to do that. In order to burst the egos of his many students he went to great lengths, none of the pleasant.

Zahra let go of that train of thought before it could fully consume her and stop her from focusing on the job at hand.

She sped across the roofs towards the very edge of the city, crossing all into the rich district to leave the city. A small twinge of regret hit her when she realised that she could not retrieve her knife but it was quickly quelled when a strong vibration came from Mercury. With a sigh she stopped her running and sprung inside a hut.

_Well done, you have assassinated Tamir. _

_Now, leave the city through the main gate and get hold of a horse. Once you are out of range of any guards your next mission will be revealed. _

_Oh, and next time, try not to lose any weapons. These are the only ones you have. The only way you could get more would be manipulate an Assassin into giving you his and the only way to do that would be seduction or brute force and sadly, you are lacking in both departments, as well as that would mean repeating the whole thing since you drew attention to yourself. Just remember that._

Oh, how Mercury's humour was like a ray of sunshine in this otherwise bland world, Zahra scoffed. She slid down a nearby ladder and landed silently next to a group of scholars. Unfortunately she didn't blend in with the white clad academics well enough to pass by the guards, who would definitely not let an unaccompanied woman leave without question, so she sought another escape route. A quick scan of the area showed a series of wooden poles across the top of the entrance into the city. The young girl turned around and scaled the ladder back up to the roofs.

Jumping across two buildings, she got in the right position to leap across the plank, right above the guards heads'. With a deep breath she propelled herself onto the first plank and used her momentum to keep leaping from plank to plank and finally throw herself into the air so she could reach the last one which was slightly farther apart from the others. She clambered up and scuttled to the side where she could let herself fall to the ground out of the guards' eyesight.

From the ground she marvelled at how large the city walls really were from the outside. It was a wonder in itself that humans could build such things with manpower alone. The walls had to be at least twenty metres high.

_'Like the walls of Jericho,' _she mused. With that thought she spun around and walked as quickly as possible to one of the grazing horses dotted around the area. It was a black gelding with a white diamond on its head. The creature was calm but had gentle undertone of power surrounding its body. Zahra smiled under the hood of her cloak and swung herself up onto the leather saddle. The animal barely even moved, only a flicker of its right ear told her that it noticed her presence. It was a strong horse, and if Zahra wasn't so unsure if she would ride it again after getting to the next destination she might have named it.

As it was, she didn't have time to waste when she could be receiving her next mission and getting this simulation over with.

The horse snorted at the flick of the reins and broke into a trot; an easy pace that is could keep going for a while. Damascus quickly disappeared behind the hill as the horse rode over the top of the thin pass that connected the city to the rest of the world. The guards ignored Zahra as she went past and soon they were galloping along the paths that lead everywhere from Jerusalem to Acre.

Mercury buzzed and Zahra slowed down the horse to a stop by a haystack.

_Mission 2: Garnier de Naplouse_

_Your first mission is to scout out Acre and find out what you can about the man named Garnier de Naplouse. He should be most prominent in the gossip around the poor district. Use your resources carefully and abide by the rules. Once you have found sufficient data for you to carry out the execution the next step in the mission shall appear. Do not worry, this man, is a simple doctor who should not put up a fight. Your assassination should be swift and silent._

Zahra was beginning to notice a pattern in the mission orders. She placed Mercury in her holster and flicked the reins, heading off to Acre.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed in any way, shape or form. That belongs to Ubisoft.

I do own Zahra Lahgazi and any characters that were not in the original games.

If you spot a mistake, notify me immediately.

_Huzzah!_

* * *

Chapter Two

Al Mualim was not a man who was easily upset. Even when he was upset it was very hard to tell. The slight edge to his voice, the subtle twitch of his right hand towards his sword and the almost fidgety way he blinked. All of these things were nearly impossible to see except for those who knew him well. Altair was one of those people, and had been subjected to many of these twitches and bladed voices for years. He had been in enough trouble to become bored of lectures and pick out these symptoms over time.

Al Mualim was exhibiting all these symptoms at the moment. Altair watched as he actually paced the floor of his raised office floor and mumbled to himself. It was strange for the seventeen year old to see his Master so agitated. It hadn't even been this bad when Abbas had tried to kill him, all those six years ago.

"Altair." Al Mualim's sharp tone snapped the young man out of his thoughts. "You must go to Jerusalem. There is someone who killed a man named in Tamir in Damascus. They used something that looks like an assassin's throwing knife. You need to talk to the bureau leader there and warn them that this person may be coming to them. This is something that you must not talk to anyone about. Use this as chance to prove yourself. Show me you can be trusted with this." The white bearded man fixed Altair's eyes with his own, holding his gaze. "Do not kill this person if you find them. I want them alive for interrogation in Masyaf. Others have already been sent out to warn the other bureaus. You have a total of eight days to complete this. May speed be with you, child."

Altair nodded and took his leave, abandoning his Master to his mutterings.

He first stopped by his room to grab the necessary items for his journey. A Master Assassin was always ready to leave at a moment's notice but for the regular Assassins who were still in training it was not needed. Also, the extra gear hindered movement when training.

Everything packed into a bag; he strode through the corridors towards the stables where he could hopefully leave without incident. Which he did, after detouring for several minutes to avoid a group of Abbas's friends and most likely Abbas himself, who would surely try to challenge him to a duel again which he _really _didn't want to do. It would be a waste of time that would end in Abbas getting angry at him for beating him again.

At the stables he found a horse that was up to the journey; a dappled mare that was calm and could easily ride over long periods of time. Altair didn't see the point in getting an animal that would fight him –he left that to Abbas. Maybe in the future he would own his own horse but for now he was restricted to training Assassin resources.

He left the city in an unhurried pace, his confident nature got the better of him as he sat with his head held high though he did acknowledge the guards on either side of the gate. They nodded back to him when he passed.

Once out of the Masyaf village he spurred the horse into a canter and let his mind wander while his body subconsciously directed the horse down the right path.

His first thought was what could have possibly caused Al Mualim to become so agitated. Altair had never heard of a man called Tamir before and yet the fact that he was dead had shaken up the old Master so thoroughly. Either Tamir was part of the Brotherhood or someone that Al Mualim had been using as a contact. There really just wasn't any other way that Tamir could have mattered so much.

Then again, there was the enigma of the Assassin throwing knife look-a-like being used for the dispatch. Whoever had used it must have watched the Assassins for some time or was, again, part of the Brotherhood. A spy could also be possible which posed an even bigger problem.

The knives the Assassins used were specific only to them. Nowhere else in the world could one find knives like them. It might have been possible that a thug could have picked up one of the knives but after nearly all assassinations, whether it was a defence killing of guards or an actual target, the bureau leader sent several contacts to collect all knives at the scene so that they could not be stolen and replicated. The knives that the Assassins occasionally stole from thugs when they ran out of stock were the run of the mill kind, just ones that could be found at every weapons store. They were not as aerodynamic as the Assassin's knives so they were not as accurate but could be used all the same if the user was good enough. It just took skill.

And if someone had managed to get a hold of an Assassin knife it was only a matter of time before they were found in weapons stores or were being used to frame the Assassins. If it was a spy working for an enemy of the Assassins, that was a very great threat.

Altair narrowed his eyes at this revelation and spurred his horse on to a gallop to get to Jerusalem faster. He was _not _going to let something as trivial as a piece of metal and an unthinking lunatic destroy his home.

* * *

Night came quickly and so Zahra decided to make camp for a few hours so she could rest and let the horse rejuvenate itself for the rest of the ride.

Camp consisted of hiding in the small inlet in one of the many natural rock walls they passed where a haystack was conveniently placed for the horse to eat. Zahra tugged the cloak around her, shuffled closer to the horse that was no lying down to rest and leaned against its side for warmth. The horse didn't seem to mind.

The sun was rapidly falling behind the horizon so Zahra whipped out Mercury to get some information before there wasn't enough light to read by.

_'Are there going to be any Assassins sent after me?' _She questioned. She wanted to know if there was any reason to be on the alert for them more than she already was. The first assassination was beginning to catch up with her and the effects of what she had done – using an Assassin knife to kill a man who must have had a connection to the Brotherhood somehow seeing as he was her target – were making her feel paranoid.

Mercury's reply was long in coming and when it eventually appeared across the page the words wrote themselves slowly, as if reluctant to answer.

_Treat this mission like you would any other. If there was the possibility of an outside force attacking you than you must be aware of it._

Zahra frowned; what was so bad about that comment that Mercury had been so slow in sharing it? There must be something deeper going on here. And she definitely didn't miss the way that Mercury had completely bypassed her question.

_'How much has changed with that assassination?'_

_Enough to change many people's situations already._

This was getting ridiculous. Though what she had said in the second comment was useful to know that people had been affected and if Mercury thought that was important enough to share then Zahra should probably beware it was _not _going to help her in the immediate future.

_'Why are you dodging my questions?'_

_Because I have the power to do it and you cannot do anything about it. Even if you throw me off a cliff I will still reappear in you holster. I am just one of those things you have to live with, whether you like it or not._

_'What if I fed you to the horse?'_

_I would purposely reappear in your shirt covered in the animal's digestive juices._

Well, that answered _that_. Another question popped into her head.

_'Why am I not hungry or thirsty? I mean, I am not even tired or slightly fatigued and yet I still sleep. It makes no sense.'_

_Ah, I wondered when you would get around to realising that. _Did Mercury really think Zahra was so inept? It was kind of insulting. _The best way to explain it is that the body you are in right now is simply a projection of the Animus. Seeing as it is a projection, you really have no need for sustenance. Only your real body in the real world needs food or water and since everything moves so much faster here than it does in reality, your real body has no need for sustenance and therefore your projected body feels no need for it._

_As for your sleeping, that is more of a habit than anything else. _So sleeping was a habit. Strange.

_Oh, and you may also want to know that every simulated person in this simulation is encoded with a set of reactions to different situations that allow them to react just like they would have when they were alive. They seem so human because these set reactions are so complex and many of them are so minute that the people act extremely human. It is near impossible to tell if they are projections or not. This was one of the things that the Master had his techies working on for the past three years._

The information was a relief. It meant that Zahra didn't have to worry about overexerting herself or where to find the next meal.

By this time dusk was setting in and the words on Mercury's pages were becoming nearly impossible to read. Zahra tucked the book safely in the crook of her elbow – out of the way of the horse's mouth –, placed the rapier that was usually attached to her spine in arms reach and closed her eyes to sleep in the way that Assassins did; deep enough to rest but light enough to awaken at the slightest warning.

But still deep enough to have dreams.

* * *

Altair arrived at Jerusalem sometime after midnight. He left the horse outside the city walls and got inside the city easily. The guards, being half asleep, had not noticed a tall man dressed in white jump over their heads.

He made haste to the bureau with the night as his cover. The guards inside the city were hardly even awake; most of them either lying down staring at the stairs or sitting in corners of the streets not observing anything. The young man shook his head in disgust at the pure laziness of them.

The Jerusalem bureau entrance was open, like normal. He flipped inside and landed silently on the floor of the fountain room, a courtyard of sorts with a fountain at one end, an open grate to jump through at the other, pillows to rest or sleep on in one corner and a latticed roof with ivy growing through it.

A soft sound of a blade being drawn came from the bureau leader's office. The Rafiq was awake apparently.

Altair stepped lightly into the room, his palms open in a gesture of amity.

"Be at peace brother. It is I, Altair, sent by Al Mualim to discuss the events that have recently taken place in Damascus."

There was the sound of the blade being sheathed and then a lantern flickered on. It illuminated the room with a warm light.

The room was averagely sized; able to hold around four large horses if they managed to get through the roof or through the backrooms from the street entrance. It was made of stone with a large, richly coloured rug covering the floor and various tools such as hammers and chisels lining the walls in bookshelves. Across the worktable that was directly to the right when one walked in the door were wood shavings and pieces of unfinished carpentry. A chair leg, a spear, a bowl; all of it expertly crafted.

Behind the worktable was the Rafiq, the lantern throwing light from its place right onto his face.

He was a short man, sturdily built with a line of stubble along his chin. He was known as Sordine to those close to him and had fierce reputation of being able to wield any blade. The fact that he was a bureau leader and a carpenter did not mean he was weak. Altair had enough experience with the man to know that he could deal out punishments well enough to students who were trouble.

"Altair, you have grown big, boy. The last time I saw you was when you were promoted to Assassin. What have you been doing in these six years past?" The genial tone set Altair at ease. The man had been a type of surrogate father to the teenager before he left to be the bureau leader in Jerusalem.

"I have been training. I am the best of all the Assassins right now. Only some of the older Assassins can beat me." Altair replied with pride. It was true, to him at least. Everyone in Masyaf knew of his prowess in the sparring ring.

Sordine chuckled indulgently and picked up the unfinished spear. He took out a knife and began to sharpen the edge with experienced strokes, watching Altair with an amused eye. After a moment he questioned Altair about his presence in Jerusalem.

"Al Mualim sent me to ask you if you know anything about what has happened in Damascus." He explained. Sordine frowned and placed the spear back on the table.

"I don't know what you mean. What has happened there?" The Rafiq inquired, obviously unaware of the assassination of Tamir. Altair almost slumped his shoulders; he had been counting on Sordine knowing something so he wouldn't return to Al Mualim empty handed.

"A man named Tamir has been assassinated in Damascus using one of our blades. Al Mualim seemed to find this extremely troubling. He thought you may know something." He said. Sordine frowned even more deeply.

"Al Mualim thought I may have knowledge on this? What is his relationship with Tamir?" He asked.

"I don't know. Al Mualim didn't tell me who he was, only that he was killed by one of our throwing knives." Altair stopped talking when Sordine held up a hand and left to the back room through the curtain behind the worktable. He soon returned with large leather ledger. The book made a thump when it landed on the table, sending wood shavings fluttering to the floor.

"Here is the last account of anything of importance inside Damascus. It was last updated a few weeks ago." He said as he opened to one of the last pages. "It may be able to shed some light on who this Tamir is."

"But what about the knife?" Altair interjected. Sordine didn't even raise his head.

"We will come to that soon. For now we must find out what we can about Tamir." His eyes skimmed through the information stored in the book for several minutes. Finally, just as Altair was feeling a little awkward as a seventeen year old boy who hadn't fully mastered his patience may, Sordine slapped his hand down on the table.

"Found it. The entry reads:

"Tamir, based in the middle district, aged 35 and an upcoming black market dealer. Not very well known but in a decade his empire will spread to a point that he may need to be terminated. Not a present threat." Sordine chuckled. "Well, not a future threat either anymore, I guess." He closed the book with a bang. "So, that begs the question of why someone in possession of one of our knives would assassinate such a lowlife." He mused, picking up the spear again and starting to carve it.

"Do you think that it was an Assassin?" Altair asked.

Sordine shook his head. "No, Assassins may become corrupted over time but they do not kill needlessly. Unless it was a revenge killing, which I doubt seeing as Tamir was not of much importance, it must have been someone else. There would be no benefit to killing Tamir for an Assassin. But enough of my views, what do you think, boy? Surely you have a better head on your shoulders than you had six years ago."

Altair blinked. He hadn't really thought of anything on the ride over apart from his theory about the spy and the knives being sold everywhere or used to frame the Assassin's but it sounded strange saying it aloud, as though he was being paranoid. To his relief Sordine took his speculation with a thoughtful expression.

"You may be right with it being a spy but I doubt that the knives will be sold. The fact that they have already been used and are not yet on the market means that they probably never will be. But someone trying to frame the Assassins is plausible. Can you think of a reason?" He posed the question. Altair faltered for words as his mind worked to some up with a solution. Eventually a likely story came to him.

"The Assassins have many enemies don't they? One of them may be trying to get at a mutual enemy of ours and theirs by using us as a scapegoat?" A smile lit up Sordine's face.

"Very good, boy. Can you think of some of our enemies that would be able to get knowledge of our weapons and use them in this way?" He was prodding the answers out of Altair even though it was apparent that he knew them already. Altair felt a twinge of annoyance at this but quickly quashed it; using his mind at every possible moment was one of the teachings Al Mualim often intoned upon him.

"The Templars? They haven't been active for a while but they could be trying to make us look as though we are targeting people in the Holy Land which would create tension between the Brotherhood and Saladin." He started to connect the dots that Sordine had already made. "Saladin knows the Brotherhood exists and that it works for only itself so if he thought that the Brotherhood was threatening his reign by killing off his subjects then he might wage war on us. And that would provide the perfect way for the Templars to attack if there was already mayhem happening and their win would be easy." Sordine was positively beaming by now.

"You have been trained well, I see. I suppose I should thank Al Mualim for that. Be sure to give him my compliments when you return. As for your theory, I agree with you that it is most likely the Templars trying the frame us to create discord amongst the Brotherhood and Saladin. I shall think more about it tomorrow though, for it is well past midnight now. How long did Al Mualim give you for the mission?" He sliced another shaving off the now sharp spear.

"Eight days total." Altair said. "He told me to warn you that whoever killed Tamir may be coming here and to ask you for any knowledge. Also, he said that if I find the person I must not kill them, instead, take them back to Masyaf for interrogation."

Sordine nodded and laid the nearly finished spear on the worktable.

"Then we have time to discuss this further in the morning. Go to sleep Altair, a growing boy like yourself should be resting at this time." He gestured to the doorway of the courtyard. "I trust you will be able to find your way to the pillows in the dark. I am going to sleep." He leant down and blew out the lantern then left to the back room with the ledger tucked under his arm. Altair was left standing in the dark room alone.

The young man wandered into the courtyard and knelt by the fountain. He dipped his hands in and splashed his face with water, rubbing the sand and grit out of his skin. He slipped off his long white cloak that was a symbol of the Assassins and proceeded to clean every bit of skin he could reach.

Once he had a semblance of cleanliness, he leaned back and tilted his head, looking through the latticed roof to the bright, starlit sky. There was enough light from the stars to see without fear of bumping into anything.

He sighed and went over to the roof opening. After considering for a moment he shook his head and turned towards the pillows. Sleep was what he wanted right now.

* * *

The complex of buildings that made up the Brotherhood headquarters was always busy no matter what the hour. Come hell or high water, the modern building situated in a deserted mine field – all the mines only activated in times of emergency through the use of a password of course – would always have life inside it. Whether it be a meeting with the sub-masters of the other factions, one of the legendary Master Assassin tests that had been put in place in 1837 when a Master Assassin went on a rampage because no one had checked out whether he was actually sane or not or nurses rushing everywhere because of a mission gone wrong, the entire place was always thrumming with energy.

Right at this moment however, the reason for the commotion inside was none of the above.

Zahra Lahgazi and Maria Thorpe were having a video game competition and everyone knew that that was the place to be.

In the common room nearly twenty teenagers were watching and eating, laughing or shouting at the top of their lungs as they watched Zahra and Maria battle it out on the huge wall sized TV. Hooked up to the TV was a Playstation 3 with the latest version of some shoot-em-up game that everyone had forgotten the name of in the excitement.

A crash sounded through the speakers as something exploded in the game. A cry of outrage came from Zahra.

"Hey! You used a cheat code!" She accused, not even looking at her opponent. At that moment Zahra was under the influence of a little too much alcohol and for once was letting her façade slip away to the point where she was just a fifteen year old girl playing games with a sixteen year old rival.

Maria snorted and shot down a red guard – Zahra's team.

"Please, that's insulting. If I cheated you wouldn't know about it." The brunette retorted, also under the influence of alcohol. She opened her mouth to say something else but abruptly closed it and scowled when she saw one of the blue lights on her map wink out of existence. Next to her Zahra smirked. Another blue light flickered out. Then another. And another.

Ah yes, revenge was sweet.

"Is she using heat seeking missiles?" A boy from behind the two said.

"I think so but aren't those illegal? They were banned from the game for making it too easy for the players." His friend whispered back.

"Then how the heck did she get them? I didn't even see her use any cheat codes."

"It's because I am a deity." Zahra interrupted. "You will one day learn the way of the game gods when you are ready, young grasshoppers." Both of them made incredulous sounds which were studiously ignored. The girl was too busy concentrating on directing the last missile at Maria who was dodging it at every turn.

"I didn't know you knew words like deity. Have you been reading the dictionary again?" Maria jabbed smugly. Zahra glared at the screen at the memory that comment brought up.

"I have actually. And because of it I can now insult you in many different ways that you can't understand." She replied in a congenial tone that didn't quite mask her anger. "Harridan" She muttered under her breath.

"Really, just like you can shoot down thirteen people with only two bullets but you can never show me because you lost the gun." Maria added scathingly. Zahra let out an indignant sound.

"I didn't_ lose_ the gun! You stole it from me!" She defended, shooting down a squadron of masked men.

"I plead the fifth until we can get you checked for mental stability. The fact that you are wearing a pink head band makes me think you are hanging onto childish tendencies." Maria drove the rover she was in straight through several soldiers, drawing closer to Zahra's 'The Hunter' character.

Zahra ground her teeth in frustration and swiftly tapped some buttons on the controller. A few seconds later a small pop sounded from the speakers and suddenly everyone who had been watching the game was silent. The others who were playing games soon quietened down when they realised what everyone was looking at.

Maria's character 'Silent Shadow', who dressed entirely in black and looked something like a Black-Ops agent, had had a makeover.

It was now a giant bunny. With Huge. Pink. _Floppy._ Ears.

Someone in the back corner snorted at this sight. Someone else followed suit and before long the entire room was full of the sounds of cackling adolescents.

Maria, someone who treasured her game characters above nearly everything else and was known for her meticulous design when creating avatars now had giant bunny with floppy ears that was called BunBuns.

The brunette didn't move for a good few minutes. Zahra was beginning to feel a little worried that her enemy may just crack from the pressure of having her favourite character turned into a buck toothed fluff ball. Zahra idly wondered if she would prefer exploding or imploding when it happened. Imploding, she decided. Exploding would be far too messy.

"YOU WENCH!" Maria screamed. Flinging aside the controller and all possibility of the BunBuns issue being resolved peacefully, she lunged at Zahra and knocked the couch over in the process.

Zahra grinned as she fended off Maria's blows by grabbing the girl's wrists, bending a knee to hit the girl in the stomach and send her flipping head over heels. Zahra scrambled off the back of the couch which was now on the floor and leapt on top of Maria.

The normally perfect Assassin fighting style the teenagers used all but dissolved as they struggled for the upper hand, exchanging blows and grappling each other on the ground.

At one point their fight started an all out war in the common room and the entire place was trashed in a matter of seconds. Popcorn was thrown across the carpet, the TV was hit with numerous pieces of food and even cracked in one corner, tables were overturned, chairs were ripped and more than a few windows were smashed. It was mass carnage.

A bang came from the doorway, one that was_ not _from the fight. Every teenager stopped what they were doing instantly and looked towards the source of the noise. A collective flinch went through everyone when they saw who was standing there.

The Master was not pleased at all.

"Who started the fight?" He asked in deceptively calm tones.

No one moved an inch.

The Master raised his eyebrows.

Every single hand bar three pointed towards Zahra and Maria who were currently in a state of pure terror that was not nullified by the alcohol in their system at all.

"Lahgazi, Thorpe, come with me." He turned on his heel and strode out the door. The girls glared at each other and followed quickly.

They trotted after the man's long strides for some time, trailing around corners and corridors, until they finally reached the emergency room. Both girls stared at the door for a moment then looked up at their Master in confusion. He gave them an ice cold stare in response.

"You are both intoxicated above your limit." He stated simply. Though both confused by that they reluctantly went inside. And instantly tried to run back out.

The Master blocked their exit and fixed them with a stern gaze.

"You may not leave here until you are at your full capabilities." The sadistic pleasure gleaming from his eyes was absolutely terrifying.

Maria and Zahra gulped and nodded. The swivelled around so they were facing the room and felt all the blood in their faces disappear.

In front of them was the bane of any drunk person's existence.

The flushing machine.

Not to be confused with a toilet, the flushing machine was a creation made several years earlier after a major party that had the Assassins hungover for days. Because they were unable to take missions with blistering headaches and disobeying bodies, a quick thinking scientist had created the machine to flush all the alcohol from their systems as quickly and efficiently as possible. The side effect was extreme pain as the liquid was forcibly shoved out of the body through some most . . . unpleasant places.

Neither Zahra nor Maria had been subjected to the flushing machine before but they knew its reputation. The worst part was that it was self activated, meaning that the person being flushed had to hook themselves up and press the large red button. It was a cruel torture that caused every alcohol drinker to flinch as soon as they saw even a glass of wine.

The door slide shut behind them and the two girls were left to face the machine alone, with cameras blinking in the corners of the room of course.

In Zahra's opinion, it was the most horrendous experience she had ever been through in her life.

* * *

Zahra abruptly woke from the dream. Without moving a muscle or changing the pattern of her breathing, making it seem as though she was still asleep, she spread her senses as best she could and found nothing but the horse she was using as a back rest. With a sigh she opened her eyes and rubbed the sand out of her tear ducts.

With a quick inspection she found that her clothes were basically ingrained with sand and dust and her whole body reeked with sweat. The cloak was not made of breathable material like the coats she was used to and it made her body feel like it was covered in mud. She would have to ditch it soon and find something more lightweight otherwise her work would be impaired.

Her weapons were also a little worse for wear because of the hot climate and sand.

_'Who gives someone weapons in a desert that are ruined by sand?' _A buzz came from Mercury.

_It is to make life harder for you. The Master thought that allowing you to not eat or drink should be balanced by needing to find a way to upkeep your weapons and clothes with limited resources, just like in reality. Did you really believe that the Master would make everything a walk in the park after what you did to the library?_

Zahra frowned at Mercury's familiarity with the library incident but put it down to common knowledge in the Brotherhood. After all, you couldn't get away with messing up that badly without someone spilling it to everyone else.

Zahra sighed and shut the book with a snap. There was really nothing surprising about that at all. This entire simulation was one weird anomaly after another. A sentient book, no need to eat or drink, finding sleeping was only a habit – that was something she found just strange – and now her weapons were not sand-proof even though she was in a desert. She was finding herself wondering if her horse was going to start talking to her. Well, maybe that was a stretch but if the horse did something like whinny when she asked it a question she wouldn't be that amazed.

With another sigh she got to her feet and strapped her sword to her back again, grimacing as her fingers touched her greasy hair. She wasn't a complete drama queen but her hair was one of the things she liked to keep in top condition as well as possible. To have it so dirty was a little repulsive.

She had arisen before sunrise and was already half an hour into the ride before the sun was beginning to show the first signs of peaking over the horizon.

By midmorning riding to Acre was becoming very hot work. Sand constantly flew at Zahra, trying to work its way under her hood, the sun beat down on her back like a particularly enthusiastic bongo player and the sunlight was stabbing at her eyes and burning the part of her face that was showing under the hood. Once Acre came into sight the young girl was sure that Mercury was digging into her back just out of spite.

The cloudy, misty weather of the coastal city was a welcome relief. The low mist hung like a blanket around the city, creating an aura of mystery. Zahra slowed her horse and let him walk towards the city as she revelled in the coolness the water particles in the air brought.

There were guards at these gates as well. She slipped off the gelding and left him to graze contentedly. Bringing her hood even further over her face and pulling the sides around her so it was hard to tell even what gender she was she walked slowly up to the gate. If memory served there shouldn't be any Templars in the city for another ten years in 1192 when it was seized during the Crusades. That meant that she should be able to enter the city with relative ease as there was no reason for anyone to suspect a spy for the moment.

The guards barely gave her a second glance as she entered with her head bowed like a humble civilian. She kept walking through the city without a hitch until she was out of the sight of the guards. From there she went to the roofs to begin her scouting.

The city was a major port and full of life and the smell of the sea. Sailors could be seen everywhere, strolling through the city in groups, discussing their work. The poor district, which would lie in ruins in only a few years time, was in the middle of the city. The city was shaped strangely. The mass of the city was like a rectangle with the rich district branching off in a south west direction. On the right side of the city was the middle district where the harbour was located. The rich district and the middle district were connected at the very bottom of the city but not by much. The poor district was huge, sprawling and lively. And that was where Zahra started her search just as Mercury told her.

Inside another rooftop hut – did all cities have these? – Zahra went through an inventory and checked the amount of wear on her clothing. The sand had done a number on the flexible cloth but not enough to make it worrisome. The cloak was sturdy and had protected most of her gear.

She watched for guards but, as said before, they weren't overly anxious. There were barely even three in sight on the roofs and maybe only three times that on the ground.

It was even easier than Damascus.

As soon as the guard turned his back Zahra jumped out of the hut and sped towards a square she had witnessed earlier.

However, just as she was about to reach the square a guard stepped out from behind a tower and spotted her.

"Hey, you!" He cried, raising his bow and arrow. Without thinking, Zahra sped up and reached the man before he could let the arrow fly. He stumbled back as she lunged at him feet first. He let out a startled cry when her legs wrapped around his throat, locked at the ankles. She used her momentum and the anchor her provided to change her direction and twisted her body as hard as possible. With a sickening crack, his neck snapped and he crumpled to the ground, dead.

Nobody had seen the short excursion so the girl sprung away from the body and back to her course towards the square.

Inside the square were more people than she could count. Many of them were carrying a crate of some kind. A lot of the women had pots on their heads and were weaving between palm trees and people alike. And in the corner of the square was a man who looked like he was discussing something with a captain.

Instantly interested, Zahra ran around the perimeter of the square until she was on the roof directly above the two men. Straining her hearing, she listened in on their conversation.

"Well, do we have an accord? The shipment will be sent to England in three days time." Said a thin man, wearing what looked like an apron. The captain nodded.

"Yes, I shall have it sent over with my best crew. The journey itself may take a week though, with the heavy cargo."

"Do not worry," the first man assured him, "time is something we can spare for now. However, I expect everything to be in the best condition when it reaches port." There was an underlying threat to his voice. The captain shifted uneasily.

"Of course, it shall be in the same condition as when you gave it to me." The man nodded his consent.

"Then I bid you good day, captain." He ended the conversation with obvious finality.

"And to you, Mr Garnier." The captain looked as though he had never been so happy to get out of a situation in his life.

Zahra stilled.

No, it couldn't be so easy. Not for the second time in a row. This must be a coincidence.

Zahra watched in shock as the apron wearing man left the square, heading towards the front gates. She made haste to follow him, not wanting to lose her quarry.

He weaved between the crowds with ease and was not troubled by any guards. He walked for a good ten minutes before finally reaching a house in a deserted street where two guards stood on either side of the door. They stepped up to meet him when he approached the door, levelling their swords at his throat.

"Name?" One of them growled out. The man raised his palms in surrender.

"It is I, Garnier do Naplouse. I should be expected." The guards scrutinised him then lowered his swords.

"Go on in, the master is waiting for you, Mr Garnier." The first guard said.

At that moment Zahra felt like she was going to start dancing for joy. Only her first day in Acre and already she had located her target and he was standing right below of her for the taking. With a gleeful smile she took out three knives and readied her arm to throw them in quick succession and retrieve the knives before anyone knew what had happened.

_'Oh, if only Maria could see me now!' _She chortled inwardly.

Maybe it was karma that did it or maybe it was just a coincidence but as soon as Zahra thought those words a large, white wall of muscle slammed into her with the force of a pickup truck.

* * *

TheOneWhoRulesThemAll: For those who do not know, at this point Altair is seventeen years old and only an Assassin, not a Master Assassin. At this stage in life he does not show any arrogance at all - well, to Abbas he does -; that comes later when he becomes a Master Assassin.

At least, that is how it is in the game. Who knows what will happen here? I only have a very sketchy version of events going on in my head at the moment.

In regards to Garnier, in 1182 when this simulation is set he works in Jerusalem at the hospital there. It isn't until 1187 that he is given sanctuary in Acre. Even then, it isn't until the siege of Acre in 1190 that he is given jurisdiction over the poor district and builds the hospital to sate his psychotic tendencies. So for the sake of this plot line he is in Acre at this moment because Acre is the main port in the Holy Land and is sending his 'stock' back to England. Take that as you may because I am not giving away anything that was purposely left out in the actual writing.

And thank you to those who read this.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed in any way, shape or form. That belongs to Ubisoft.

I do own Zahra Lahgazi and any characters that were not in the original games.

If you find a mistake, notify me immediately.

_Huzzah!_

* * *

Chapter Three

It was official. Even life in a simulation followed Murphy's Law. Well not quite. It was actually worse than Murphy's Law. In simulation life it seemed as though the computer was just setting things up for a spectacular failure that would ultimately end in the whole thing being reset.

At least, that was what Zahra was thinking when she was sent flying by a large white _thing _that had had the nerve to ram into her with the force of a steam train. With a silenced scream she crashed into the wall of a taller building on the right. The blow made her head spin. She shook it, trying to get of the buzzing in her ears. Several cracks radiated out from where she had hit the stone leaving an imprint. No ordinary person had that much power without training, nor the ability to sneak up on her without her knowing about it. She was in for a very hard fight indeed.

The big white wall stalked towards her, positively exuding an aura that spoke of pain. Zahra tried to jump to her feet but found that her body was unresponsive. Her eyes widened as the white thing halted directly in front of her and sent something swinging towards her head. A burst of white exploded in her eyes. It faded quickly, bringing with it an all consuming void that is the bane of an Assassin's life.

Her head lolled on her shoulders and as her consciousness slipped away like melting snow.

* * *

The blackness was stifling. It veiled everything, creating a vacuum where nothing could be heard or seen, except for one thing. It didn't stop the pain.

The pain wasn't on a level where Zahra couldn't handle it. It was an annoyance in the same way that a twisted ankle irritated an adult. She had dealt with much worse before. After all, it was in her training. All she had to do was focus on something else and it the pain would be pushed to the back of her mind where she could forget about it completely.

The technique worked well enough if the pain wasn't too much. A broken bone, sure, but a bullet ripping through a limb or a sword stabbing through her chest? That was something that was hard to ignore without an extreme mastery over the human mind and its pain receptors. Unfortunately, even as the 'prodigy', the fifteen year old girl was not up to that level yet and so when she felt the blistering agony of _something _being forced into her body she couldn't disregard it.

Instead, she was torn from the overwhelming darkness and brought back to full consciousness screaming herself hoarse.

The sudden shock of light made her eyes tear up. She clenched them shut and tried to stop the whimpers still bubbling up her throat. In an effort to give herself something else to think about she bit her lip hard enough to draw blood and focused on that instead of whatever was creating waves of cold fire to burn through her body.

"You're awake." A voice hit her ears. She winced as it grated on her senses which were already frazzled from the pain. Whatever was hurting her twisted, evoking another bout of screaming from the young girl.

"Abbas." Another voice said sharply, this one deeper than the first. The pain receded slightly but not by much. Zahra sucked in a shaky breath and slowly opened her eyes, squinting against the light.

The room she was in, from what she could tell with the light blinding her, was a rather small stone structure with only one door and a skylight. There were no adornments anywhere and the only piece of furniture was the uncomfortable wooden chair that her arms and legs were strapped to.

In front of her stood the white wall that had sent her flying into the stone curb. Now that the haze that had covered her eyes had lifted somewhat she could see that he was nothing more than a young man, late teens, early twenties. He wore a white coat with a sash the colour of blood and was decked out with more blades than she could count in her agony induced state.

Slightly behind the boy was a much older man wearing a black robe over white clothing. His face was fierce and his eyes were hard, telling of a long life of blood and death. It was obvious that the two were not ones that would play around when it came to whatever they intended to do with Zahra.

The older man spoke, his eyes trained intensely on the girl.

"Who are you working for?" He said, his voice never raising above a low monotone but carrying all the menace of a snarling wolf. Zahra was confused about why they would think she was working for someone but didn't let it show on her face. There was no way she was giving them anymore leverage than they already had, her being tied to a chair and all with – was that a _sword! _– sticking out of her shoulder.

As those in the modern Brotherhood had found out very early on, when Zahra was inebriated she acted like an actual fifteen year old, instead of the aloof workaholic she was around everyone but Maria. However, something only a few knew about was that when Zahra was being interrogated or in great pain – she never let herself get hurt enough to let it become common knowledge – her personality did another one eighty. The Master said it was a defence mechanism that was highly useful in their line of work as it allowed her to handle large amounts of stress without cracking but Zahra just found it disturbing that she had it in her to act like that.

Regrettably, this was a situation that qualified under all the categories that set it off.

"Answer the question, wench!" The young man who Zahra assumed was Abbas slapped his hand across her face. Her head cracked to the side with the force of the blow, her hair, which must have come undone during the transfer to wherever she was now, falling across her face like a veil.

And then Zahra did the unexpected.

She laughed.

An ominous, creepy laugh that she knew sent shivers down many people's spines, if Maria was to be believed. Her shoulders shook with mirth and with slow, almost unnatural movements, she twisted her head back to look at them. Her eyes danced with joy.

Abbas raised his hand again but was interrupted when she spoke.

"Do you want to lose that hand?" Her tone was almost dripping with glee, barely concealing the overflowing waves of pure sadistic pleasure. "Because if you slap me again I would be more than happy to remove it for you." The threat was enough to make Abbas stay his hand. Zahra smirked at him. Honestly, the guy had managed to ram her into a wall without her even sensing him and yet he balked at a threat made by a girl tied to a chair with a sword in her shoulder. What was with the people of 1182? Heh, the newbies back at base were better than this.

"I will not repeat myself." The older man said. Zahra tilted her head and examined him. He didn't even twitch when she licked her lips.

"Good, because repeating yourself is a waste of time when there are much more . . . _enjoyable _things to be doing." Zahra watched in amusement with some detached part of her brain that wasn't so disturbed by her actions, as the man's countenance became even stonier as he processed the obvious innuendo.

Abbas literally growled at her and raised his hand to smack her again but suddenly the man was there, holding Abbas' wrist in a vice like grip.

"Who are you working for?" He ground out again. Zahra sighed and rolled her head to the side, staring at a crack in the wall. She _really_ disliked these guys. It seemed as though no matter what time you were in, men were still insufferable.

"I might as well tell you, seeing as this whole simulation will restart soon and you two won't remember a thing. Pity, I would have taken pleasure in exploiting your presences a bit more. There were so many wonderful things I had in mind once I got out of these bindings." She looked back at the males just in time to see the man scowl and Abbas look . . . uncomfortable. "But I guess those things will never come to fruition now. Ah, the shame. And it would have been so much fun too. Maybe not for you two, but for me . . ." She trailed off, letting them use their imagination to conjure up images for what she would have done. From Abbas' expression it seemed as though he was thinking of worse things than even she was. The man was just a stone wall, as per usual.

"Do not make me hit you again, wench." Abbas spat out, though the image was ruined slightly by his red cheeks.

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of _making _you. There is no fun in unwilling toys." She purred lazily. "And in any case, you seem a bit too _virginal _for my tastes." She flicked her gaze to the other person in the room. "I prefer toys with experience." Now the man was beginning to show signs of actual emotion besides the lethal brick persona, something flickering in his eyes that sort of resembled unease.

Zahra counted it as a win on her part. As mentioned before, her stress induced personality brought out interesting reactions.

The man walked forward with deliberate steps and, moving almost faster than Zahra could see, grabbed the sword handle and twisted it savagely to the side.

Zahra let out a howl of pain. The man released the sword and her head fell forward. Panting and struggling to get her will power back, she stayed there for a moment. When she lifted her eyes again she was disgusted to see that Abbas had his arms crossed in front of his chest and was giving off a mood of pure unbridled satisfaction.

"Now, tell me what I want to know." The man said. Zahra almost spat at him in anger but quickly smirked in an effort to keep her fake persona up.

"Not if you keep hurting me." She whispered hoarsely. "I may have to seek revenge in a rather unorthodox manner."

"Dammit it, woman!" Abbas exploded. "Does everything you say have to be a reference to . . ." He trailed off, clearly losing his nerve to say what he meant. Zahra was only too happy to help him.

"What? You mean sex? Now I can see I was right when I said you were a virgin. But apparently your master here is more than acquainted with the concept." She nodded in his direction only to receive a glare in return.

The man had not yet released the blade and shifted it again. Zahra gritted her teeth against the pain. She could handle pain if it was necessary and there could be massive consequences in revealing what the interrogator or torturer wanted but in this situation there was nothing stopping her and she wasn't a masochist at all.

"Fine. Take your hand off the damn weapon and look at the back of my neck. That will tell you what you need to know." She said. The man frowned but instead of letting go he just gripped it tighter and jerked his head to indicate for Abbas to look.

Abbas strode to her back and roughly pushed her head forward, exposing her neck. Zahra heard him suck in a breath.

"You're . . ." She never heard him finish his sentence.

Suddenly she surrounded by white. It was like something one would only find in a movie. A completely white space that seemed to have no beginning or end, no light source or doorway, nothing at all. It was eerie.

"What the . . . ?"

"Well done. You managed to get rid of a small time black market dealer before you had to restart. Your mother must be so proud." An electronic female voice filled the air. Zahra scowled. It sounded like Mercury but something was familiar about the way they managed to convey a drawl through an electronically warped voice.

"I guess the simulation is going to be reset then?" Zahra questioned, a tad rhetorically.

"Yes, but not until you understand where you went wrong and how you can fix. And who _knows _how long that is going to take." The voice sighed. "So, to start off you must list which rules you broke and why."

Zahra groaned. "Rule number one because I let myself be attacked and kidnapped by Assassins. Rule number four, reason same as already stated, and rule number six because of what was already stated and it infringed on my ability to dispatch the target." Even when one's superior was rude a good soldier must always obey orders and Zahra was nothing if not a good soldier.

"Good. Now that we know your failures, what is the best way to counteract them?"

"I don't know, maybe don't have the rules?" She remarked. Silence. So much for friendly banter then. It was harsh; Zahra thought she deserved it after being _tortured._ "I must be aware of my surroundings and not let myself be distracted by something as trivial as the simplicity of the mission and the fact that it was a simulation. If I was to redo what I have already done I would remain alert." Her eyes widened when she realised where she had truly messed up. "And I would not leave any trace of my actions, such as the knife I left in Tamir."

"_Finally. _I was beginning to think that I had misread your file of you having a semblance of intelligence. Now, before you begin the simulation again you will need to run through a test to see whether you are up to scratch. The Master was less than pleased with your performance and he wants to make sure that the simulation hasn't affected your abilities."

Zahra raised an eyebrow. "I am not questioning the Master's decisions but why would the simulation impinge my abilities?"

"That is what we are testing. Remember, you are the test run and so you are here to see whether this is an actual viable source of training or if it has major repercussions, like death, which would amuse me greatly." The voice replied. "Your first test is to fight the weakest in a series of eleven waves of fighters. Your job is to completely eradicate them in the most efficient way without hesitation. Once you have done so the simulation will restart and you will find yourself back in Damascus where you must kill Tamir. Once you have dispatched of him you will return to this place and the second wave of fighters will come and so forth. If you fail to comply with one of the rules the simulation will be reset and so will the waves. For this wave you will get one sword. Good luck, even though you will need a miracle to handle this one." Zahra swore she heard the voice colour with a twinge of pity but her focus was distracted when a metre long katana fell from above.

She snatched it from the air and dropped into her preferred stance, one that had no noticeable holes in the defence and could easily be used for an attack.

"First Wave; first year Assassin trainees." A different voice blared from nowhere. Zahra faltered. Surely she had heard wrong. They couldn't truly expect her to kill . . . children.

It seemed as though they were, because right at that moment ten children, no older than eight or nine, appeared in front of her, wooden swords drawn back in clumsy stances. With a sigh she lowered her sword and walked calmly towards the closest child. All ten of them instantly swarmed her, raising their swords, some yelling battle cries, just as they had been programmed to do in a twisted replication of reality.

It was thoroughly sickening to know that the Master wanted her to battle such young children, even though she knew they were nothing more than a series of computerised commands and false sensory projections that made her feel as though they were real. She disarmed them as quickly as possible without hurting them and went about striking various nerves that would send them into unconsciousness instantly. The realistic feeling of their soft skin under her touch was enough to make her want to vomit. From that moment she knew she would never take a child assassination job in her life.

She turned away from the limp bodies, hoping that the job was done and went to retrieve the katana where she had left it lying so she wouldn't hurt the children. With nothing better to do than wait for the white void to disappear so she would wake up in Damascus like before she spun it in her hand and marvelled at the fluidity of the weapon. It felt as though it was built specially for her hand. A few slashes and fake parries in the air caused her to widen her eyes in astonishment. It was a truly magnificent blade. One that she had no need of if she could just send the children to sleep. Why had they given such a weapon to her for this?

_"Your job is to completely eradicate them in the most efficient way without hesitation."_

Oh no.

Turning around, she saw with utter horror that the bodies of the children were still there, limp like ragdolls.

Even though she didn't want to believe it, the job parameters had _specifically _said that she was to eradicate them without hesitation.

Which meant her earlier fears were right. It didn't matter that they weren't real.

She was going to have to murder ten _helpless children._

The thought of not doing it flashed through her mind but it was quickly quashed. There was no way she could get out of this, seeing as this wasn't even reality and she would be in this void indefinitely until she committed the act since time went slower in the simulation than true time. If there was even a tiny avenue to beat the system the Master would have dealt with it before she had tested it. There was no way out of this situation whether she liked it or not and the fact that it was not real didn't make even a smidgen of a difference. The children were still children and if the guards from Damascus were anything to go by these simulations bled just like the real deal.

_"Without hesitation." _She was hesitating right now. Dammit, the only option was to detach herself and hope against hope that she could strike the killing blow with her eyes closed.

However, actually raising the sword over the neck of a small child was extremely hard to cut yourself off from. The sight of the tiny person, their chest moving up and down with every breath, not a blemish on their skin, their face as peaceful as though they were only sleeping; completely unaware that there was a fifteen year old holding a sword above their head, ready to send it slicing through their neck.

_"Without hesitation."_

_'Oh, shut up!' _She screamed inwardly and without giving herself a moment for second thoughts she swung the sword.

The blood was warm.

* * *

As soon as the hot air of Damascus hit Zahra, she doubled over onto all fours and retched emptily. Her stomach heaved and her vision swam in front of her eyes. Her skin felt as though it was being blasted with an oven and yet frozen in the Atlantic simultaneously. Never in her life had she felt so sickened. Just the very thought of those sightless eyes caused her to retch more violently.

Damn this. Damn all of this. She was only _fifteen _for goodness sake. What type of twisted world made fifteen year olds cut off the heads of helpless children?

Her arms trembled and nearly gave out as tears ran from her eyes and into her mouth. She had never wanted this. Everything she stood for, all the missions she had been on, all the training she had undertaken, it was all in the name of justice. She did it to protect the innocent and keep the peace amongst humanity; _not _to murder children in cold blood all for the sake of a test!

This wasn't right, none of it was right anymore. Zahra gulped back her tears, the action straining her already raw throat, and sat back on her haunches. With a shuddering breath she raised herself to her feet and took stock of her surroundings. She needed a roof hut where she could think without having to fear for her life or be in danger of killing a guard if one should prove a threat. To her relief there was one only a few metres away; any further than that and she would have not been able to make it with her limbs as weak as they were.

Inside she simply flopped on the ground. For a while she did nothing but fight against the tears that were threatening to overflow again but it was a losing battle. Salty water slipped out of her eyes and into her hairline. Closing her eyes, she lay there crying silently.

When she opened her eyes again the sun had set and the earth was cooling under her back. Frowning, she sat up. Did she doze off? Then again, it was understandable; emotional trauma could stress even the most hardened criminal.

_'What am I going to do?' _She mused. '_If this is what the Master had waiting for me once I become a Master Assassin I know that I definitely don't want to do it.' _Unfortunately there was no real way to leave the Brotherhood once you had entered. Many people had tried and failed before, the most notable being that Desmond guy who had ended up returning a few years ago.

But Zahra was not willing to stay in the Brotherhood anymore. As soon as the order of _"without hesitation" _had come up she had broken off all thoughts of continuing her line of work. Killing innocent children was unacceptable no matter what they had done and if the Master could force her to kill _them_, who knew how many innocents she had murdered prior. It was a horrifying thought.

So that begged the question of if there was no way to stop killing by leaving the Brotherhood was there a way to stop killing while still being a part of it?

_'Well, there is no way to do that now anyway.' This isn't even reality. _Zahra sighed. If only she could talk to someone about this.

For lack of anything better to do she opened Mercury. To her surprise the words had changed. The list of rules at the beginning of the book had become significantly shorter. In fact, one of them was missing.

_Zahra Lahgazi_

_Welcome to your personal simulation helper. This book shall guide you through everything you need to do while in the Holy Land and all those you need to avoid. To stop you from jumping ahead of schedule, failing again or not fully completing the simulation, the guide will only show the pages of the mission you should be performing, and the answers to any reasonable questions you may have. Now, here are the basic rules:_

_1._ _Do not, under any circumstances, let yourself become known to anyone who could compromise your identity._

_2._ _Do not, under any circumstances, let yourself die before you have killed all targets._

_3._ _Do not, under any circumstances, kill a civilian or a person who is not a threat in any way, shape or form for no apparent reason._

_4._ _Do not, under any circumstances, become emotionally attached to any one person._

_5._ _Do not, under any circumstances, let your target go. Kill them as efficiently as possible without raising suspicion._

_6._ _Do not, under any circumstances, leave the Holy Land. If you do so you shall die and break rule 2._

_Follow these rules and your missions should be straight forward. If you break any one of these rules you shall be sent back to real time then forced to complete the mission from scratch._

_Kill without hesitation._

_Mercury_

There it was again. That stupid line. It wouldn't be long before Zahra was completely sick of those words _"without hesitation"._

Other than that, it was strange. The rule that had previously been number four was gone, the one that spoke of her not meeting with the Assassins. It was as though the simulation wanted Zahra to encounter them, without compromising herself or letting herself be killed, if that was even possible. And what would they want her to do when she did meet them? Discuss the merits between the modern way of the electric chair and the good old fashioned decapitation? Maybe have a spar to see what rank she should go into and then force her to kill more? She shuddered at the thought. No more, no more murder.

_'Well,' _she shook herself out of her quickly degenerating thoughts, '_seeing as I have all the time in the world in this idiotic place, I might as well make the most of it.' _She smiled and with a spring in her step, she jumped out of the hut. It was time to find someone who needed her help.

Thankfully, Damascus was full of bad people who took advantage of the lower and middle class civilians. Unfortunately it was the guards who took the advantages, which meant that whoever she helped would probably be surrounded by guards, a confrontation that would inevitably end in a fight. But Zahra took it as training; see how well she could play a hero without killing anyone.

She leapt from building to building, ducking out of sight when archer guards came around the corners of towers. For a while she simply roamed the city, taking in the sights and appreciating the magnificence of it all, as magnificent as Damascus was in 1182. The heat was sweltering though so she had to make several stops inside various huts. All the while she never looked at Mercury. As long as she didn't read the _Mission One: Tamir _assignment that meant she would not have to kill him. Procrastination was sometimes useful; it came up with such practical ways of getting out of jobs.

A scream ripped through the air around mid afternoon. Zahra was lazing inside one of the huts, her back resting against the wall and her knees to her chest when she heard it coming a little to her south. She left the hut and raced across the rooftops, the relatively thin cloak she had stolen flapping behind her like a cape.

Down in a lonely alley in the middle district, a girl was being accosted by several guards. They were leering at her, their intentions clearly shown in the way they had cornered her in a dead end. Zahra shook her head at the disgusting display. Apparently it didn't what time you came from, humans were still idiots.

"Hey!" She called down. The five guards whipped their heads around and narrowed their eyes when they caught sight of her on the roof.

"Stay out of this!" One of the guards growled. He turned back to her captive. Zahra frowned. With loud movements that spoke of inexperience, she leapt onto the crates below and onto the ground.

She clicked her tongue as she approached them with a masculine gait. "Don't be like that. I just want to join in the fun."

"I told you to leave!" The guard shouted back.

"Actually, you told me to stay out of this, which is the exact opposite of what I am going to do." She grinned and tugged the sword from her belt, sheath and all.

Three more of the guards left the woman and helped the first guard surround her near the middle of the alley. The last guard grabbed onto the woman and held her to his chest, stopping all movement.

The first guard lunged clumsily at her. Zahra danced out of the way and struck him at the back of the neck with her sword. He went out like a light. The other guards quickly unsheathed their blades and took up stances, all of them equally sloppy.

_'These years of peace between the Crusades have done them no favours.' _Zahra thought.

In quick succession they all leapt at her and two of them were sent to the ground with well placed jabs that would most likely result in painful bruises in the morning. The fourth guard however, managed to actually aim his sword. Zahra reacted instantly; bringing her sword up, batting his away like it was a twig and slicing across his chest.

It was only when the guard stumbled but didn't fall that she realised what she had done. She slapped a hand to her mouth to hold down the bile threatening to rise.

_'I tried to kill him. Without hesitation.' _If it hadn't been for the guard who was looking rightfully ticked off about being struck in the chest she would have no doubt fell into a puddle of her own despair and cried her heart out again.

"How dare you!" He cried, slashing his sword wildly. Zahra snapped out of her thoughts and blocked him. Her sheath tore under the force of his blade. With an annoyed mutter, the girl pushed him back and backhanded him across the left temple.

Behind her the woman was shaking like a leaf and the guard looked like he wanted to be anywhere else in the world. He made no movement to run away, scared motionless, and when she grabbed the pressure point on his neck he didn't protest. At least he wasn't hurt in the process of being knocked out.

The woman stepped away from his unconscious body and looked about in wonder. Eventually her eyes locked with Zahra's gaze.

"Thank you!" She gushed. "Those guards came out of nowhere! I will tell my brothers and cousins what you have done so that they may help you when you are in need. You are kind indeed, sir." Zahra smirked at that and decided to indulge in her play at being male.

"You're very welcome, my lady." She spoke with a deep voice. The woman gasped as Zahra bowed low and gently took her hand. Raising it to her lips, Zahra winked at the woman's astonished face. Heh, this was more fun than she thought it would be.

Leaving the woman in a stammering state where she was swaying between swooning and staying awake to blush furiously, Zahra meandered along the rooftops with nothing more to do. Her good deed for the day had been done and seeing as it was getting later in the day it would be worthwhile to go about and see what she could procure in terms of the upkeep of her weapons with the money she had pilfered from the guards.

The Souk Al-Silaah was where she decided to try her luck. As the main trading centre for Damascus it was her best bet.

The Souk was a large complex of covered corridors that stood in the centre of the Middle District. It was obvious from the roofs with its long, tall domed ceilings dotted with window to keep the light in. There were five main corridors, big enough to fit hundreds of shoppers and then four smaller corridors branching off three of those. It didn't have any noticeable shape, more just a single frontal corridor that had been expanded and added to until it extended quite away towards the southern wall.

The entrance was unguarded and Zahra entered with ease, keeping up the masculine gait. For not the first time in her life she was thankful for her height that dwarfed many of the women that bustled about around her. The sword at her side helped to keep a barrier between the shoppers who would have otherwise barged into her in their haste to complete their final shopping of the day. What really got to her though, was the fact that some of the women in the Souk kept sending her glances and whispering. She smirked; so this was what it meant to be a dark and mysterious man, no wonder they were so arrogant.

It was a little before sunset when she found a weapons dealer. His stall was filled with maintenance supplies and at the very back were several blades propped up against the wall.

Zahra inspected his wares with an experienced eye, one that he noticed very quickly.

"Ah! Young man, I see you are familiar with your swords! Look all you want! I have the finest wares Damascus has to offer." His voice was overflowing with arrogance.

Zahra scoffed and flicked her gaze over to a weapons set on the wall. According to the note below it was 'sand-safe' though she doubted that was the case. With narrowed eyes she perused the rather plain weapons, all of them unadorned.

All the blades in the set were gleaming and sharp, each without a crack to damage their integrity but she would have to look closer to truly test them. There were ten throwing knives, a hand-and-a-half long sword, a rather fine looking wooden bow with a dozen sharp arrows and a dagger. The handles were made of nothing but steel wrapped with leather, which was unusual if what she had seen so far was anything to go by, but that wasn't what caught her eye.

It was the steel that the weapons were made out of that grabbed her attention. The metal was mottled, banded, reminiscent of flowing water. Every wave was unique. Zahra had never seen anything like it.

"Ah, I see that my sand-safe weapons set had caught your eye." The stall keeper chuckled. Zahra blinked. She had completely forgotten that he was there.

"The bow is made of Samaritan Yew, imported from India. It soft yet flexible, resilient to nearly any level of wear." He continued. "And the blades were forged out of true Damascus steel, sharpened by yours truly."

"Damascus steel?" Zahra inquired. The stall keeper looked at her in surprise.

"You have not seen Damascus steel before?" He asked; eyebrows raised in astonishment. Zahra kept herself from twitching in embarrassment. Did he have to sound so amazed?

"No, I have not been in the area long." She replied.

"Really? Surely you would have seen the steel in other cities nearby? A man with your experience would know about such things, correct?" He questioned.

"Do not assume what you do not know." She said softly. "Tell me about Damascus steel. What of its properties?"

The stall keeper watched her for a second. After a few moments, just as she was beginning to feel impatient, he nodded and brought down the sword and placed it on the counter.

"It is a very strong metal. I do not know the way it was forged but I do know that it first came from the India and was adopted by us in Damascus. Compared to the usual steel used for weapon making, this one is ahead of its time." He spoke with a serious tone that was at odds with arrogant approach before. "True Damascus steel consists of alternating bands of very hard but brittle iron carbide or cementite and softer more flexible iron. The steel contains a small amount of vanadium, which also strengthens the blade . . ." Zahra began to zone out. Lectures, though helpful, were never her strong point. Most of her tutors could never work out how she managed to be so good at her job.

"Hey!" Zahra jumped when she was suddenly whacked on the head with the flat of the blade. "Don't daydream when someone is talking to you!" Zahra winced and rubbed her head. The blade was well weighted.

"Do you mind if I test the blade?" She asked.

"Not at all, but what is wrong with your own sword?" The stall keeper gestured to the blade hanging from her hip. Zahra unsheathed it and laid it alongside the Damascus steel sword.

"The metal is not made to handle the constant sand and heat. Its integrity is weakening." The man picked up the sword and looked at it carefully.

"Hmm, I think I may have something that can help this, though I have not seen such a blade before. Come into the back where it's easier to see; there is more space for you to test the sword there." Zahra watched him warily for a moment but could not see any ill intent behind his offer, except maybe the chance to examine her sword.

She nodded and, seeing there was no opening to get into the stall, vaulted over the counter. The man widened his eyes in surprise but didn't comment. Instead he reached up and took down the rest of the Damascus steel weapons from the wall.

"Here, test these while you are at it. You won't find many places that sell at such low prices." Zahra smirked slightly at the obvious business ploy. Once a business man, always a business man.

She accepted the weapons and followed him from the stall to a large storage area that apparently coupled with a workshop. A bench covered in trinkets and blades lined the furthest wall while the other walls were taken up by crates and pots. The middle of the room was free for movement, a large space of stone. Windows ranged around, letting the fast fading light in.

The man lit several lamps hanging from the roof and the one on his workbench before sitting down to thoroughly check the sword. Zahra stood awkwardly in the middle.

"Oh, my name is Fadil." He called without looking up. Zahra accepted this in silence but it as a while until she realised she was meant to reply back to him.

"Uh . . ." She fumbled for a name that would not seem out of place. Her thoughts went through the old names she knew. "Qayin." Damn, that was beginning of Old Testament old.

Apparently Fadil thought the same.

"Really? Your parents chose a name from the Old Testament?" He was curious.

"Yes. They were Jewish." She responded. Fadil tensed sharply, causing Zahra to frown. What was wrong with being a Jew? Syria should not have ill intent toward Jews in this time.

"I am sorry for your loss." He said quietly. Now that really confused her. She went over what she said and widened her eyes. She had spoken in the past tense when referring to her made up parents. He must have thought she was saying they were no longer alive.

Never one to contradict something that could help her in the long run, she didn't comment. Instead, she redirected her attention to the weapons in her arms and the ones on her person. Maybe she could have Fadil look at those ones too?

She hastily stripped herself of all weaponry, making sure to be silent so he would not turn around and see her without a cloak. Fadil thought Qayin was male and it was going to stay that way.

"Here." She placed her weapons, save for her hidden blades as those were things that were never to be revealed to anyone outside the Brotherhood. It was hard enough for her to let him see everything else she owned as it was but something about his demeanour made him feel like she need not fear. Maybe it was the fact that he reminded her of one of her old tutors, an uncle type fellow. Whatever the case, she still had the Damascus steel to protect herself with.

He glanced up at her then down at the weapons, a bemused smile spreading across his face.

"Who knew that such a thin boy as yourself would hold such dangerous objects." He muttered wryly.

Zahra smirked at that and retreated back to the middle of the room. She picked up the sword, leaving the rest on a crate and started the task of testing its worth.

She first checked the centre of percussion, the point of the blade where if it was cut it would create the least amount of vibration along the blade so that the usual sting felt through the hilt when cutting with a sword would be nonexistent. Satisfied that it was in the top third of the blade, between the point and the middle, she went on the check the balance.

Zahra preferred a sword that was evenly balanced between the blade and the hilt so when she held it in her hand it would not fall if she was not gripping it. Many others preferred a heavier blade to gain momentum but her fighting style had always leant towards dodging and slipping between opponent's guards, instead of pure strength.

With that satisfied also she checked the integrity and found nothing wanting. In all, the blade was exceptional, perfectly suited to her every need. The waving texture of the blade added to its appeal as well.

She went through a simple kata then swapped it for the dagger.

Holding it in a reverse handled grip she tried slicing, stabbing and all manner of other attacks. It too, was perfectly suited to her style.

Next was the bow which was easy enough to pull back and released with surprising strength and came with strong, well made arrows. The throwing knives were good enough from what she could tell; heavy enough that they would be able to kill with a single throw – or disable without killing, as she intended to do – yet not too heavy that they would be a burden. But the true test would be to see if they flew straight, which she could not test inside.

"You can throw them at the wall, if you want." Fadil offered. Zahra spun to face him and saw that he was sitting at the bench with a set of maintenance supplies next to her weapons and was watching her with silent interest. A quick glance outside told her she had been using the weapons for a while. The sky had become black without her noticing.

"You have been at it for over an hour." He told her. She hid her shocked reaction and faced the wall. With a deep inhale, she lifted the throwing knife and aimed it at a small speck of mold she could see growing. Without warning, she let the blade fly and felt an innate sense of pride when it hit it exactly centre. She threw the other nine in quick succession and created a circle around the first. They were truly spectacular weapons.

"Well," Fadil said with a smile. "It seems I have found someone to sell that set to on only the first day of having it." Zahra returned the smile with a very small one of her own. He smiled wider and got up from the seat and gathered her things together.

"I wonder if Tamir will give me another set." He murmured under his breath as he put the maintenance supplies in a bag. Zahra froze and stared at him in disbelief.

_'Oh, no.'_

* * *

TheOneWhoRulesThemAll: "Qayin" is the Hebrew name for "Cain" who was the eldest son of Adam and Eve in the Old Testament of the Bible. The Bible says he killed his brother, Abel, for some unknowable reason - it was probably jealousy - when God said he approved of Abel's sacrifice of his best lamb, more than Cain's sacrifice of his most measly crops, thereby making Cain the first murderer in all of humanity. Not really any relation to Zahra because she was simply thinking of an olden times name she knew that wasn't something like Arthur.

Thank you to everyone reading this.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed in any way, shape or form. That belongs to Ubisoft.

I do own Zahra Lahgazi and any characters that were not in the original games.

If you find a mistake, notify me immediately.

_Huzzah!_

* * *

Chapter Four

"Did you just say Tamir?" Zahra asked. Fadil raised his head in surprise.

"Yes. He is the one who supplies me with my weapons." He said. Zahra cursed inwardly, though towards whom she had no idea. The Master had said that this was a simulation of the past so everything in it was as it had been in 1182. Then again, it wouldn't be strange if the Master had placed Fadil in her path as another test, and it was obvious what _those _tests had been about.

"Is he your only supplier? What would happen to your stocks if you no longer had access to him?" She tried to sound as casual as possible but it was clearly not working by the way Fadil was looking at her warily.

"Yes . . . He is my only supplier. If I didn't get his weapons I would be out of business. Why this interest in Tamir's effect on my shop?" He questioned warily. Zahra suppressed an oath and waved her hand in an attempt to look nonchalant.

"Don't worry, just something on my mind lately." She shook her head and looked at him with a forced smile. "How much do you want for the Damascus steel?" Fadil glanced down at the weapons in her hands and blinked.

"Oh, come with me. We can discuss it in the stall." He waved his hand and walked through the door to the stall. With a frustrated sigh, Zahra ran a hand through her hair – as well as she could with the hood on and the long plait that was quickly becoming dirty – and followed him into the stall. Inside he was pulling out a wooden box from inside a metal case – rudimentary safe? – and placing it on the stall counter.

"That steel is some of the finest quality I have come across. The price set is normally quite high but I suppose I can give you a discount seeing as you have let me see your weapons . . ." He trailed off, stroking his chin with a contemplative look upon his face. Zahra didn't even bother sighing, another marketing ploy of course; one that was surprisingly effective.

Shifting the weapons to her other hand, she reached behind her back and grabbed the cloth purse in her holster, ignoring the vibrating of Mercury as she brushed its pages. She retrieved the proper amount of money and placed it in the hand of the happy but not altogether surprised Fadil.

"No, no; I cannot take so much." He pretended to protest, even as he was putting the money in his wooden box. Zahra didn't comment, instead opting to change the subject.

"Do you have sheaths and a quiver?" Fadil nodded and rummaged around in an unmarked box. Within a few moments he drew out the requested supplies. The sheathes were all made of leather and were as unadorned as the weapons themselves. As Fadil held them out to her Zahra was fronted with a problem; how was she going to get them on without Fadil seeing she was a girl? After all, even the most amiable man would not readily sell weapons to a woman in this time. Even if Fadil's name did mean generosity that didn't mean it extended to her. Dammit, why was everything so sexist? Honestly, even the Brotherhood was called the _Brother_hood. What was so wrong with women? Even Fairy Tales showed men gallivanting around on horseback while the women were locked in towers or forced to work as slaves. Zahra would've liked to see one of those 'princes' go through the trouble of changing their very DNA to meet a girl. Then again, there was Aladdin . . .

Mercury buzzed furiously, bringing Zahra back to the present to notice that Fadil was still awkwardly holding out the sheaths. She took them with a curt nod and, making a snap decision, strode into the back room, leaving Fadil staring at her back.

In the back room she threw off the cloak, added the sword to her belt and placed the rest of the weapons on her person as well as she could with all the blades she already carried. Luckily the Damascus steel was light, hardly a burden at all.

With that done, the cloak on, and the bow and arrows strapped to her back, she sat down on one of the crates and placed her head in her hands. What was she going to do about Tamir _now?_

Sighing in frustration, she reluctantly reached into her holster and brought out Mercury. After reading over the rules, and ignoring the extra comments, she still could not see a way out of the situation. The Master was testing her, that she was sure of now. If only she could be less compassionate, more of a killing machine like Sordine or Marco from interrogation. If only she wasn't Zahra Lahgazi . . .

"Qayin? All finished?" Fadil called from the stall. Zahra closed Mercury with a snap and unfolded from her seat in one fluid movement.

"Yes. But before I leave, I have one request."

* * *

That morning saw Altair running across the roofs of Damascus trying to find his horse. Apparently, some upstart had thought it a good idea to untie the knots he had painstakingly tied into the reins around the post in the Assassin stables. Altair was going to treat whoever did it to a very strict lesson on why one should _not _mess with a male covered in weaponry.

To his irritation he could not find anyone with a horse at all. He supposed that there was probably a reason for that, such as the amount of shock it would cause to have a large, black gelding walking through the streets of a city and the attention it would bring to the person who stole it, but at that moment he really could not find it in himself to care. He needed to leave that night to reach Masyaf in time for his next assignment and to do that he _needed a horse, damn it!_

With a scowl that was hidden by his hood, he raced over the roofs towards the main gate. Hopefully whoever had taken his horse would still be there, held up by the guards for some reason or another.

He jumped from building to building, all the while grumbling about the amazingly bad timing this thief had. Well, it wasn't like there was ever a good time to steal an Assassin's horse, but there were times when the Assassin wasn't in a hurry, unlike now.

Suddenly, a commotion erupted from a square a few streets behind him. His eyes widened as he saw his horse leap over a cart and gallop towards the gate, scattering the pedestrians as the rider tried to unsuccessfully get the horse to stop its reckless pace.

_'You are not getting away with this'. _Altair snarled. He quickly calculated the correct angle that he would have to jump at, and the timing, and, without a sliver of hesitation, threw himself off the building.

* * *

To be fair, Zahra hadn't really stolen the horse. She was more giving the beautiful beast its freedom while simultaneously irritating an Assassin who would ultimately come to meet her, just as her plan dictated. In her opinion, the reason completely justified scaring the life out of dozens of daily pedestrians as well as ruining the day of one Assassin stable boy.

The horse threw its head back and screamed, obviously not appreciating Zahra's efforts to get it under control. Zahra growled under her breath as she pulled at the reins. The horse resisted, throwing itself into the sides of the alley she had pulled it into in an effort to get her of its back. She gritted her teeth and held on.

With a snort, the beast launched itself out of the alley and into a square. There were screams and crashes as people carrying objects let go in shock. The horse sprang over a cart of hay and promptly set off in the direction of the city gates, nearly throwing Zahra off as it did so.

Leaning down so she was not so susceptible to air resistance, she let the horse run its course, all the while trying to direct it into one of the branching streets. It would not do to leave the city before encountering an Assassin. It would also not do to fall off the horse, but then again, when has Murphy's Law ever given any exception to Zahra?

With only a small flick of movement out the top left corner of her eyes as a warning, Zahra found herself being tackled from above and forcefully smashed into the hard ground by something clothed in white. Her mind had only a second to process what had happened as a fist was shot at her face. Reacting on instinct, she redirected the fist with a slap of her hand, drove a knee into her attacker's gut and karate chopped their windpipe. Scrambling to her feet, she lashed out with a kick to the person's side. The white clad attacker rolled away and launched themselves to their feet. They heaved for breath while staring at her, their stance one of both defence and offence.

_'Wonderful. Of all the Assassins to get this one is bigger than the one who slammed me into the wall and stabbed me with a sword. What is this guy going to do? Hit me so hard I fly through a building?' _Zahra mourned. Her thoughts were cut off as the Assassin lunged at her, hands outstretched and reaching for her throat. She dodged to the right and quickly fended off a sword slash by drawing a knife. Before she had time to marvel at the speed of his unsheathing, she was being pushed into a corner dodging a blocking a flurry of attacks that would be fatal if they hit.

"Hey, can I at least talk to you?" Zahra tried reasoning. The Assassin snarled at her. Well, there went diplomacy. Blocking yet another strike to the throat, she turned and sprinted down the street, looking for some way to get this fight out of the way of civilians.

The minimalistic sounds of another assassin chasing her – and gaining on her – met her ears, causing her to put on speed. If there was one thing Zahra would not give up for brute strength, it was her speed; she could outrun nearly everyone in the Brotherhood.

Spying a ladder on the side of a building she ran to it and scaled it like a monkey, keeping her knife away from her to avoid a possible injury. Something whistled through the air. She ducked her head and was greeted with a thunk. Her eyes widened when she looked up. Buried half way to the hilt in the stone wall was an Assassin's throwing knife. What was with these old Assassins? What were they, superhuman?

The ladder jolted, reminding Zahra where she was. She tore up the rest of the ladder and hauled herself over the edge of the roof just as the Assassin grabbed for her ankle. She jumped onto the rooftop hut nearby. Her grip on the knife turned her knuckles white as she watched the Assassin appear on the roof top with the grace of a predator.

"Hey, before we start trying to maim each other again, could I explain?" She asked once more, keeping her voice low so that the Assassin would not be clued in to her real gender.

"You stole my horse. You are not getting away with that without punishment." He replied, anger marring his tone. Zahra sighed and jumped off the roof, ready to push the guy off the building if necessary.

He sprang into action as soon as her feet touched the ground, slashing with his sword. Zahra answered with a block, letting her knife run down the length of the sword towards his knuckles. He released the hold and threw a punch at her head. Rolling away, she replaced the knife with her whip and manoeuvred into a crouch.

_'Well, at least I finally get to test this thing out.' _She hadn't bothered parting with the object at Fadil's store; he hadn't had any whips that were on the same level of expertise. She flicked the handle, relishing the sound of the leather snapping against the stone.

The Assassin didn't halt. He ran at her again, this time with both the sword and a knife. Zahra cartwheeled out of the way just as he brought the sword crashing down at her head. Flicking the whip, she managed to wrap the end around his wrist, jerking the sword out of his grip with a sharp tug. He scowled at her – at least, she thought it was a scowl from the turn of his lips that she could see under the cloak – and, to Zahra's unsurprised irritation, pulled on the whip harshly.

But, before he could even drag her to him, she had let go and was diving for his fallen sword. Sliding across the ground, she kicked it off the side of the building and rolled to land in a crouch. There was a clatter and a shout as the sword fell to the ground, followed by the sound of running. Within seconds the sounds of guards clambering up the ladder. The Assassin spun his gaze from the ladder back to Zahra and clenched his fists. Zahra smirked, gave a two fingered salute, and promptly jumped across the gap to the building on the other side of the street. There was another shout behind her and Zahra knew she was being chased.

"Hey, stop!" Someone shouted at her. She stifled a laugh and sped up. '_Let's see how the Assassin fights without his precious sword.__'_

Dodging to the left, ducking behind a tower, running over the Souk Al-Silaah's rounded roofs and diving into a roof top hut saw her lose the guards easily. She waited for a few moments before emerging and beginning her search for the animalistic Assassin.

It didn't take long to find him. He was on the streets, heading for the place where she had kicked his sword. Taking a page out of his book, she watched him walk through a dark alley, aimed her body, and sprung into open air.

The Assassin grunted as she slammed into his back, driving him face down into the hard dirt. She ripped off his hood and pulled his head up by tangling her fingers in his dark brown hair. Her lips twisted when she felt his reflexive swallow through the blade of the knife she held to his throat.

Leaning down, she whispered directly into his ear.

"Now, will you listen to me?" His eyes narrowed. She pressed the blade even harder, cutting a thin line in the soft skin. Blood trickled down onto his collarbones. "If you don't stop reaching for that knife I will slice your neck open and find another Assassin." His hand stopped sliding along the ground. "Good, now, I have someone that I need you to take into the Brotherhood, because he is soon going to be out of a job. I want your Master to hire him as a weapons consultant." She released some of the pressure on his neck to allow him to speak.

"What makes you think I would take a civilian to the Brotherhood?" He spat out. Zahra's smirk got even larger.

"Because if you don't meet with him by the end of the day he will go to Tamir, his supplier, who is a known associate of the Templars, and tell him all the security plans inside Masyaf and where the bureaus are. I am sure Robert de Sable would love to hear about them." She purred, snickering inwardly when she felt the Assassin tense under her knee. The plan was running along nicely, apart from the fact that Qayin was becoming quite feminine.

"How do you know where the bureaus are?" He ground out, a mixture of shock and anger lacing his every syllable.

"Well, I guess you could say I have some friends." _If you can count tutors who force students to read obscene amounts of history, friends. _She thought wryly. What the Assassin didn't know wouldn't hurt him. "So, can I let go of this knife or am I going to have to slit your throat and be on my way? And just so you know, in my left hand is a pouch of poison that I _will _use if you try to escape or fight me. And as an extra incentive to not run out on me, Al Mualim would be proud of you if you bring him back a weapons expert and information that there is a person or persons outside of the Brotherhood who know the whereabouts of both Masyaf and the bureaus." There was no reason not to add that in there; Zahra didn't want to kill this man – or boy, really – as it went against the 'no killing unless absolutely necessary' code she had just started to live by.

The Assassin seemed to think for a moment. To keep up appearances, Zahra put pressure on the blade again. It sped up his cognitive abilities well enough.

"Fine." He gasped out. "I will take him to Masyaf." Zahra smiled.

"Wonderful. Let's go meet him." She slipped the knife back into her sheath – after cleaning the blood off on the Assassin's shirt – and slowly took her weight off him. She got to her feet and readjusted her hood to make sure he wouldn't see anything she didn't want him to. The Assassin shot her a withering glare that she brushed off like water on a duck and stood up. He tugged the hood back on; covering up what Zahra had seen was quite an attractive face with sharp eyes, a defined jaw and a rather odd cut on his top lip.

Grinning at his rather petulant expression, she gestured for him to step out of the alley first. He did so warily and tensed again when she swept up behind him.

"Don't get excited. I am just making sure you don't try anything." She whispered as she stood on tiptoe to reach his ear. She dug the knife she had at his back a little deeper. From the position it was in, if he dared to move in a way she didn't like she could make one sharp push and leave him crippled for the rest of his life.

It was quite pleasing to notice the way his fists clenched by his sides when her breath ran over his ear.

_Heh, of course a stoic guy like you would find a slender boy making innuendos awkward. _She then vowed to have as much fun as she could until the Assassin was out of her way and she could go back to her original objective of leaving the simulation as quickly as possible.

"Go to the Souk, Southern entrance. First stall on the right. If you leave the crowds or draw any attention to us I _will _drive this knife into your back and leave you to bleed." She threatened. He nodded his head quickly and walked into the sunlight street. Zahra did her best to keep from looking like anything but one of the pedestrians in the morning rush.

"Stop." She muttered. He obliged and didn't move as she bent down to retrieve his sword from the ground. She surreptitiously slid it into one of the extra sheaths she had bought from Fadil and stood up, not before noticing the Assassin's eyes were glued on the vast amounts of weaponry she had under her cloak. With a dangerous smirk, she tapped him with the knife.

"Get moving." Once again, they were off.

The Assassin stayed in the most crowded parts of the city, merging with the stream of shoppers heading for the Souk. Within minutes they were outside the Fadil's empty stall.

"Do you think you can be in the company of that many weapons without trying to kill me or am I going to have to tie you up?" Zahra questioned. The Assassin didn't respond.

"Fine." She sighed. "Fadil! Are you in there?" She called out. The sound of a chair being pushed back and footsteps came from inside the stall, followed by Fadil's grinning face.

"Ah, Qayin! I suppose this is the man you told me you would bring?" He inquired curiously, his eyes roving over the Assassin's appearance.

"Yes, he is. However, I do not trust him at the moment so I was wondering if you could grab some of the rope you keep under your counter." Fadil smiled at this and pulled out a coil of rope from under the bench.

"I would ask how you know I keep rope under the counter but seeing as you have all my Damascus steel on you I don't want to risk it." He commented as he handed over the rope. Zahra nodded in thanks and swiftly tied the Assassin's hands together, palms facing away from each other.

"Over the top." She prodded him in the back. He sent her a glare that she returned with a smirk, and smoothly vaulted the counter without using his hands. Fadil took several steps backwards from the Assassin, who was over a head taller than him.

Zahra joined them in the stall and sheathed her knife once more.

"Now, what's your name, boy?" Fadil said genially. The Assassin watched him for a moment, his eyes seemingly assessing the stall keeper. Fadil's smile wavered under the golden-eyed stare.

The Assassin nodded to himself and replied.

"Altair Ibn-La'Ahad." He said shortly. Fadil looked to Zahra with a raised eyebrow.

"Qayin." Zahra replied. "Let's go further in." Fadil raised both his eyebrows at Zahra's assertive tone. Compared to her deportment in his company before – aloof, calm, hardly speaking a word unless it was whispered – she wasn't surprised that he was a little curious. She sent him a look that spoke volumes and placed a hand on the small of Altair's back.

"Get moving." She murmured under her breath so that only Altair could hear. She smirked when he tensed under her touch.

_'I really shouldn't be finding amusement in making a fully fledged, armed and deadly Assassin, squirm like a child.' _She mused as Fadil lead them into the back room.

Fadil took a seat at his workbench, Altair was pushed onto one of the numerous boxes and Zahra lent against the wall across from him, arms folded, one foot flat on the wall.

"This is Fadil, he is the man you are going to take to Masyaf." Zahra began, gesturing in the direction of the weapons merchant.

"Where I am to be introduced to Al Mualim, the Master of the Brotherhood, correct?" Fadil queried. Altair glanced at Fadil quickly before returning his eyes back to Zahra's.

"Yes." She said. "You will leave tonight, making your trip during the night to avoid any Templars who may try to stop for being an Assassin." She pushed off the wall and strode towards the bound man. If possible, his back became even more rigid as she approached. He glared at her as she bent her head and locked gazes with him.

"However, I must warn you before you go." She spoke quietly. "If you kill Fadil on the road or even when you reach Masyaf, I will go to Robert de Sable and personally tell him the location of every bureau in all of the Holy Lands and the name of one Altair Ibn-La'Ahad who killed an entire platoon of his Templars in two days and wrote the words 'Al Mualim dances on the graves of the Templars' on the walls above the front gate into the city of Jerusalem. And you can guarantee that somehow it will reach the ears of your precious Master." Altair's eyes widened almost imperceptibly. "So not only will you be kicked out of the Brotherhood and hunted down by every Templar in the land but you will also have doomed the entire Brotherhood to being dispatched one by one by Templars until the entire organisation is just a pile of burning books and crumbling ruins." By this time Altair wasn't even breathing anymore. Zahra's eyes were burning holes into his, her gaze dark and foreboding, and her voice holding more lethal potential than a lion's growl, so much so that even Fadil wasn't moving.

Zahra smirked ever so slightly while silently thanking Marco from interrogation for his demonstrations and withdrew from Altair's personal bubble. He let out the breath he had been holding slowly and relaxed his posture to something more natural. Fadil followed suit.

"So, you get it now?" She asked. Altair nodded in reply. "Good. Fadil, you should start packing for the journey, while I run through a few things with Altair."

"Don't hurt him, Qayin." Fadil said. "It would be nice to arrive with a healthy Assassin, rather than an injured one. It might raise some questions."

Zahra smiled. "Of course." She replied softly, not taking her eyes away from Altair. The Assassin swallowed.

Fadil left the room with a shake of his head – something Zahra had learnt was a habit of his when she had explained the numerous details and locations about the Brotherhood the night before –, leaving Zahra to Altair. She immediately went over to him and, to his shock, tugged him up from the crate. He towered over her uncertainly, obviously feeling awkward with being so close to who had effectively become his personal demon. Zahra ignored this, effectively taking the opportunity to examine his physique.

Overall he was the epitome of the perfect Assassin. His body was hard, muscled, but not so much that it would be obvious to guards and Templars if he ditched the weapons and wore civilian clothes. He had the same weapons that she had originally, though older and sturdier. The only skin she could see was that on his face, and it was tanned and rugged. Her eyes fell on the scar over his lips once more and she found herself wondering if it was possible for her body to scar like that if it was indeed only a projection of the Animus.

Shoving that strange tangent away, she forced herself to concentrate on the now; namely, what was she going to do with a young, male Assassin who she had just blackmailed into taking a random weapon's merchant into the heart of the Brotherhood.

"Wait here for a moment." She said quietly, not seeing a point in speaking any louder. Moving to Fadil's bench, she surreptitiously brought out Mercury and spoke to it for the first time in over two days.

_'Hey, can you make me a Backgammon board to play with this guy? I honestly don't know what I am going to do with him for the next few hours.' _She pleaded. After a few moments, Mercury vibrated.

_Right, so now you talk to me just because you need something. It is great to know you appreciate my company so much. I was starting to think your thick headedness had grown to cover your back as well, causing you to not feel my vibrations. The fact that you remembered I exist is sending warm tingles up through my spine._

Zahra briefly wondered if that last sentence was meant to be a pun but shook off the thought. Altair was staring at her as though she had a problem. Which, she guessed, she did.

_'It's a pleasure to fill you with such nice feelings.' _She quipped sarcastically. _'Are you going to help me out or what?'_

_Well, seeing as you have been avoiding me for the past few days and you are in the company of a highly trained Assassin who hates your very being right now, I don't know why I should lower myself to help you. After all, you haven't even _looked _for Tamir yet and that's the whole point of you being here. But for some reason you are spending your time on a simulation who doesn't even think you're female. What is _wrong _with you?_

Zahra could just _feel _the scathing tone emanating from the pages.

_'Everything, according to you.' _She retorted. _'Can you just give me the Backgammon set? The sooner Altair is out of the way, the sooner this entire thing is done and can get back to murdering Tamir.'_

Mercury didn't reply but it did buzz and suddenly a wooden board decorated with symmetrical points radiating from two opposite sides towards the middle, and 30 black and white counters. Zahra picked up the board and took it over to where Altair was standing.

"Can you play Backgammon?" She questioned the tall man. He scrutinized the board for a second, then nodded curtly. Zahra bit back a sigh of relief at not having to explain the rules to him, and settled down on the floor cross legged, the board on the crate Altair had vacated. He sat down opposite her and watched as she set up the board.

"You go first." She motioned to his black pieces.

And with that, they whittled away the hours until nightfall, not noticing when Fadil came in, saw them, shook his head, and left with a smile on his face.

Somewhere along the way they had managed to strike up a conversation. It was full of one word answers, impersonal and not particularly exciting but Zahra found it interesting to see what inconsequential things she could get him to talk about while they both avoided revealing things about their lives that would give the other a clue as to where they lived, or when they lived, in Zahra's case.

"What's your favourite colour?" She asked as she rolled a dice and moved one of her pieces four points along the board, hitting one of his counters. Altair raised an eyebrow in her direction but otherwise didn't comment on her non sequitur tangent. Before that she had somehow roped him into a discussion about the usefulness of household utensils and what improvements could be made on them. Zahra had found his ideas . . . amusing.

"Brown." He answered without elaboration, rolling the dice and placing his hit piece back on the first spike of Zahra's row.

"Just brown?" She glanced at him curiously. "Why? I thought it would be something like dark blue."

It was his turn to look at her curiously.

"Dark blue? Really?" Was it just her or did his voice sound slightly scornful?

"You just seem like the type." She moved another piece. "Dark hair, deep voice, completely stoic to the point that when you talk everyone in the vicinity nearly dies from shock and/or horror. Dark blue." During the few hours they had been playing, she had learnt just how fun it was to release her frustrations out on someone she would never see again by insulting them and being amused by their reactions. This simulation was bringing out sides of her she hadn't explored before.

Altair stared at her incredulously but the expression quickly turned to anger. He glared.

"Brown." He retorted. Zahra barely held in a snort.

"I guess that would make sense. After all, it is the colour of your dear horse's lovely –"

He growled.

"Eyes." She continued as though he hadn't made a noise.

At that moment Fadil strode into the room, carrying a bag filled to the brim with possessions. Zahra stood and joined him, taking note of the three sheaths sticking out the top of the bag.

"Who won?" Fadil said teasingly, a grin on his face.

"Forty three to Altair, forty nine to me. Are you ready to leave?" She said dispassionately. His grin widened as he nodded.

Zahra tensed as she felt Altair's presence at her back. Between Fadil and him she was effectively trapped.

"You must leave now, the guards are changing." When she had first arrived in the simulation she had observed the patterns of the guard rotations during her time wandering the city.

"Of course. Let's go." Fadil nodded to Altair behind him. Before Zahra could frown, something struck the back of her neck.

_'So they have pressure point training.' _She thought wearily as her sight blurred and she felt a pair of strong arms encircle her waist. _'Damn, Maria would so laugh if she could see me now.'_

Her vision faded away.

* * *

Qayin was female. As soon as Altair's arms had touched the cloaked person's body his opinion of the gender had changed. Then again, the signs had been pretty obvious. What type of man in this day and age whispers into another man's ear?

Fadil's triumphant expression was enough to move his thoughts from examining the taut muscle he could feel under her cloak back to figuring out what they were going to do with a highly trained unconscious fighter on their hands. One who knew much more than should be possible.

"Pity, he was such an interesting person." Fadil commented nonchalantly. "Ah well, let's take him to Al Mualim and see what he will do with the boy." He readjusted the strap on his bag and gestured for Altair to follow him through another door in the stall. Altair changed his grip on the girl – should he tell Fadil that he was a she? – and swept her up so his arms were under her knees and behind her back. Her head lolled on his shoulder, her breath fanning out against neck. He fidgeted uncomfortably and cursed at his lack of forethought at not pulling his hood on before he surrendered both hands to the task of carrying her.

He trailed after Fadil, wondering about the girl and what Al Mualim would make of her. Most likely she would be executed because no outsider should have that amount of information on the Brotherhood. The fact that she had purposefully divulged that information to Fadil made it even worse. Though he was still confused about why she had given Fadil the information in the first place. She had said that he was going to be out of a job and that telling him the information was a contingency plan should Altair try to incapacitate her but what would cause Fadil to lose his job? The only way that could happen would be to either destroy the Brotherhood or to somehow get Tamir to fire him.

_'Or simply murder Tamir.' _He thought, staring at the body in his arms.

What could make such a young girl – she had to be at least a year younger than him – want to kill Tamir?

Maybe Al Mualim could figure that out.

* * *

TheOneWhoRulesThemAll: When you 'hit' a counter in Backgammon, what you are doing is placing your own counter on top of the oppositions and placing their counter on the bar in the middle of the board. However, this is only possible if the opposition has only that piece on the spike and no others. If there is more than one counter on a spike you cannot place your counter there. The way the opposition would get their piece back on the board is to roll the dice and if the number has a corresponding spike that is available in their beginning section (six spikes per section, four sections in total, the spikes are in horizontal lines of twelve with the bar acting as a partition between the sections of six) they can place their counter in that. If they are lucky, they may be able to 'hit' one of your pieces while they are at it.

That is all, hope you enjoyed it.

The next chapter is going to be strange. Just warning any would-be readers.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed in any way, shape or form. That belongs to Ubisoft.

I do own Zahra Lahgazi and any characters that were not in the original games.

If you find a mistake, notify me immediately.

_Huzzah!_

* * *

Chapter Five

The second she sat up she knew she was in a dream.

A moment later she recalled that statement as she knew that in a dream one was not aware they were in a dream and therefore she could not be in a dream because that would defy the laws of the dream world.

She blinked and shook her head as a relatively realistic idea came to her. Because of the Animus she was defenceless against anything Maria would slip her. Something like mushrooms. She had always suspected that Maria did not reach that level of glittering eyes without an enhancer. It was simply unnatural unless she _was _an extraterrestrial being as Zahra had always thought after observing the signs for years but that was an entirely different story that she was not in the mood to think about.

Taking in her surroundings that had spawned those strange thoughts, she felt that her mushroom theory was quite reasonable.

From the size and the streets branching off it, it seemed she was in the Damascus square that Altair's horse had stormed through but that was where the recognition ended.

Everything was wrong. The sandy, hard packed earth was now dark, polished wood, shining in the starlight overhead. The buildings, previously cracked and made of stone, were beautiful, Edwardian houses, one house taking up an entire block. For some reason the windows were glowing with a strange, neon green light that illuminated nothing. The roofs were covered in bright lights, each one shining like a star, but, again, illuminating nothing.

Around the square were fairy lights but each bulb was slowly drifting along the string, each of them merging with another if they met one heading in the opposite direction. The sky above was filled with stars, but they were moving as well. Each distant sun was a different, bright colour. Pink, yellow, red, blue, green, orange, purple, all the colours imaginable were represented in an infinite dance of the heavens.

It was disconcerting, to say the least.

"Ah! Zahra, you are here!" A voice cried out from behind her. Whirling around, her eyes widened comically at the sight of Maria, her most loathed enemy, dressed in something that would be better seen in a steampunk convention of fanatics.

Maria fiddled with the tri-barrelled gun strapped to her waist then walked forwards emitting an impression of friendliness. She gripped Zahra's hands in her own ripped, fingerless gloved ones and smiled so brilliantly that Zahra was nearly blinded.

"Come! Altair has been waiting to dance with you all night. You are so naughty to keep him waiting like this. He has been itching to see you ever since the party started. He even asked me where you were!" Apparently Maria found the fact that the Assassin who had tried to kill Zahra was asking for the stunned fifteen year old absolutely wonderful because she broke out in a series of very un-Maria like titters that sent shivers racing down Zahra's spine. If this was actually a side effect of being let out of the Animus and in the next few moments she was going to retain consciousness and find out that she was really hallucinating and raving like a madman, she was never agreeing to be a guinea pig again.

Maria yanked on her hands again, nearly pulling Zahra's arms from their sockets. Maria grinned in response to her glare and continued skipping down the wooden floored, Edwardian house lined street like a four year old, one with four inch ankle length boots and tiny, silver maces hanging from the laces that bounced with each skip. To Zahra's horror, Maria's normally silent steps that professed a life of assassination actually clacked on the hard wood.

Frowning at the disturbing sight, she switched her attention to something that was a little more benign, such as the houses. If one ignored the eerie green glow, they could be considered beautiful. Reaching out a hand, she trailed her fingers along the side of a wall. She snatched them back instantly, as if burned.

The walls were not wood, but plastic that felt only a millimetre thick. They were pure black, she noticed. So black they seemed to suck in all the colour of the stars. There was not a blemish on their inky surface.

"Come on, Zahra! Altair wants to see your outfit!" Maria whined from further down the road. Zahra processed that statement and looked down at herself in shock. How could she not have noticed that before?

Her leggings and red top combination that she had grown fond of had traded itself for . . . a pirate's outfit. One with knee high boots, black, silken pants tucked into the boots, a ruffled white shirt and a crimson, sleeveless coat that reached the backs of her knees. Her hair had been let out of her braid and fell around her face in dark curls, and was that a feathered pirate hat on her head?!

Ripping off the hat, she sent a death glare at Maria who smiled, unperturbed.

"Why do I look like a cosplaying prostitute!?" She demanded angrily. Maria cocked her head, the picture of innocence.

"What do you mean? You chose it yourself at the pirate store." She waved her hand to the house next to her, which, Zahra was astonished to notice, was lit up like Christmas and had mannequins sporting much more provocative pirate clothes than what she had on in the windows.

"I suggested you go for the animal theme but you were fixated on being a prude." Maria let out a long suffering sigh and stared mournfully at the window next to Zahra. The girl nearly yelped when she saw that the windows were now playing host to several scantily clad mannequins wearing nothing more than fur bikinis, fluffy tails and triangular cat ears.

"If that is something a person who isn't a prude wears, I don't want to see what something daring would be." Zahra muttered under her breath. A snort erupted from her mouth unbidden when she caught sight of a fake crocodile obviously made to fit a large cat or a small dog. It even had a tail hole.

Maria let out a frustrated sound and stomped up to Zahra, grabbing her wrists.

"Come _on! _If we don't get there soon you will miss the tango!" If Zahra had been concerned before, now she was downright disturbed. In all her experience, she had found that Maria rather resented the fact that she was a natural when it came to every style of dance, tango included. It had been just a little over seven years ago when Zahra had seen Maria practicing ballet and had decided to try out dance as well, quickly outstripping Maria who had already been dancing for years. Maria had not been impressed.

"Okay, just for the sake of seeing how messed up my mind really is by continuing with this hallucination, I will go. But if you try to coax me into a salsa with you, I will take the feather from this hat and stab it through your brain, got it?" She waved the hat threateningly in Maria's face. The brunette beamed – Zahra resisted the urge to run away screaming at the sight of her nemesis being so happy in her presence – and dragged down the road.

After running from a rather odd flock of crows that seemed to be crossed with garden variety gnomes and cursing her overactive imagination for creating such a twisted world, they reached the party. Suddenly she didn't feel so strange in her pirate costume.

They were in a large courtyard, filled with overflowing tables, dining areas reminiscent of the Mad Hatter's Tea Party, glowing orbs that flitted between the towering cakes that must have been held up with steel poles so they would not topple over, and at the opposite end of the courtyard was a large platform with eighteen different musicians wearing ensembles that ranged from large sombreros to piercings and everything in between.

To Zahra's astonishment, every one of the partygoers was from the Brotherhood. She could see Sordine talking enthusiastically to Marco from interrogation, his arms flailing madly. Joshua Barnes, a nineteen year old who had been part of the group that discovered the library with Zahra, was standing next to the punch wearing something that resembled a Nazi officer's uniform, complete with a Walther PP and a grey cap. Conversing with him was some girl Zahra had seen in the medical department. Her outfit could only be described as a jelly fish.

"Zahra!" Someone called. Zahra turned slightly to see her dance partner, Blaize Terannus, stumbling out of the large moshpit in front of the stage. He grinned widely at her, his teeth shining brightly in comparison to his dark, vampire cloak. His canines were pointed.

"Well, here comes Dracula. Maybe he will suck your blood and do us all a favour." Maria grumbled, obviously back to her old self. Zahra frowned in confusion at Maria's sudden mood swing back to her regular personality.

"Glad to see Maria didn't kill you on the way here." Blaize beamed. Maria scoffed and spun on her heel, heading for the snack table. Zahra didn't know whether she preferred the bouncy Maria or this one; they were both equally annoying.

"I have one question." Zahra posed before Blaize could get another word in. Blaize took a step back, his eyes roving her figure appreciatively. With a nod, he raised his gaze back to hers.

"Anything." He swept a bow. "But first, dance with me, my piratical queen." He straightened, placed her hat snugly on her head, and grabbed her wrist. He pulled her to the dance floor, where he promptly took her left hand, placed his own on the small of her back, and tipped her into a dip.

"All your questions will be answered in due time." He whispered into her ear. A shiver ran up Zahra's spine in spite of herself. With a jerk, he drew her back up and spun her out from him. Before she could react, he was spinning her into his chest, his arms wrapped snugly around her waist.

"But before then, I believe they are playing a tango and I have not danced with you in months." His voice was teasing.

"Well then, I hope you have been practicing." Zahra shot back. However, her mind was drawn to his mention of the tango, and from that she remembered Maria's comment on Altair. How on earth had she known about the stoic Assassin? Was she helping the Master observe Zahra's efforts inside the Animus.

Blaize's smile grew wide and before she knew what was happening, Zahra was swept into a dance full of passion, rhythm and very close contact, and all the confusing thoughts she had been pondering were flushed from her mind.

By the end of the lust filled dance a circle had been formed around the two, their movements taking up most of the dance floor. With a final swinging dip, they came chest to chest, breathing hard. To their shock, everyone burst into applause, wolf whistles and cat calls. Zahra let a sort of breathless laugh and stepped out of Blaize's tight hold. He executed another bow, his cape flying behind him, and led her off the dance floor. With all the jealous glances sent towards them and the many high fives they received, it took a while to reach the Mad Hatter table.

"Can we actually eat this food?" Zahra asked as she prodded a piece of jelly with a spoon.

"Of course we can eat it; it just makes no difference to our bodies. After all, we are only projections of our mind." Blaize responded, taking a bite out of a cream puff.

"So basically, it is like every dieting girl's dream?" She chuckled and picked up a plate. It was soon piled with all manner of cakes, sweets and anything else she could get her hands on.

Blaize snorted and finished off the cream puff.

"How does it work?" In between bites of her éclair. "The whole mind projection thing."

"Well, I guess you could say that we are like game characters. When we enter the Animus our bodies are projected to be exactly the same as how they were in reality at the time we entered. Things like food make no difference to us, neither do lack of sleep or water. As long as your body in the real world has enough nutrients then so does your projection.

"However, if something from inside the Animus, such as a punch, were to impact your projection, it would affect you. If you get a cut it will bleed and then heal as it normally would, maybe scarring. Your internal organs will fix well enough within a few days though. The Master didn't want to risk something to that degree yet."

Zahra lifted an eyebrow. "So he would be fine with me getting completely slashed in half but when it comes to something like a little internal bruising it is too dangerous?"

"In my opinion I think that the programmers hadn't had enough time to calibrate the Animus to that level." Blaize shrugged his shoulders noncommittally.

Zahra scoffed and picked up another éclair, thinking over what he had told her. It was odd that he knew so much about the Animus, as she had the same security clearance as him and she had never heard about it.

Her thoughts kept her occupied, wandering from possible reasons he could know so much – she speculated about him being Mercury but decided against it because of the sarcastic air Mercury had which he didn't – to the possibility of changing the setting and situation of the Animus while being inside. Having some music constantly playing as background music would be quite relaxing.

She watched the other dancers on the floor, studying the way the laughed, jumped and generally had a good time. It was the first time since the Common Room Incident, as it had been called, that the youths of the Brotherhood had attended a party. The elders had forbid it after the carnage that had been left in the common room. And since then Zahra had been wrapped up in so many missions she hadn't had the chance to organise anything under the radar.

And that brought up the question as to how this Animus party came to fruition.

"How did you guys get in here anyway? I would have thought the project would be under wraps." She questioned as she raised a lemon cake to her lips. At the sight of Blaize becoming uncomfortable she lowered it. "Blaize, how _did _you get in here? The Master told me I would only be under for a few minutes; that's not enough time to get everyone hooked up and inside." Blaize chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Well, heh, funny story. Uh," he fumbled for words, a blush growing on his cheeks. "You see, you had sort of been, kind of, um . . ."

"Just spit it out!" She growled. Blaize almost flinched. With a quick glance around he saw no one to come to his aid. His shoulders dropped in defeat.

"You have been under for almost three days." He said in a rush. "We paused the Animus while we were setting all this up and getting the equipment ready." Even as Zahra froze he cowered comically, dropping the other crème puff he had been holding.

Zahra stared at him, speechless for the first time in quite a while. She hadn't been this shocked – angry beyond words – since the Master had told her that she was to be partnered with Maria for the library mission. Which, now she thought about it, hadn't been all that long ago.

But onto the matter at hand. If Blaize was to be believed, some bastard had thought it would be a good idea to leave her in an Animus coma for three days just to organise a party. All the good cheer she had been feeling left her in an instant. Oh, someone was going to be nursing a black eye by the end of the night.

Blaize slowly uncurled from his near foetal position and began to clench and unclench his hands as he tried to avoid wilting under Zahra's stare. He coughed awkwardly but regret immediately flitted across his face when Zahra's stare turned into a glare.

Someone must have noticed what was happening because the entire courtyard had fallen into silence. They seemed to be holding their breath in anticipation for what Zahra was going to do.

Zahra slowly closed her eyes and tried unsuccessfully to block out all the urges telling her to wrap her hands around Blaize's throat and tighten them until he went purple. There was a saying about not shooting the messenger after all.

"So," she said quietly. Her voice carried easily over the crowd. "Someone decided to pause the Animus that was on its first test run with me still inside and leave me without food or water for three days just so you could all have a massive party. Is that correct?" Blaize nodded his head cautiously. "And the Master allowed this?" He didn't move. "Ah, thought not. Tell me, how did you distract him for three days?"

There was some shuffling in the crowd, a strangled yelp, and suddenly Maria was tumbling head first out the front. She regained her balance easily and looked over her shoulder to send a furious glare at the crowd. They ignored her for the more dangerous threat of Zahra.

Maria met Zahra's gaze with a glare of her own.

"I should've known." Zahra muttered under her breath, picturing all the simpering voices Maria had most likely used to gain permission, which the Master would have undoubtedly gave. "Well, since that answers my question, can I ask why you were acting like a sugar high school girl before?" She asked the avid party lover.

Maria rolled her eyes, placing a hand on her hip. "Because that is my true personality and everything else was just a farce." She said sardonically. "Now run along and have a long inward monologue about the true reasons as to why I am physically able to smile." She made a shooing motion with her hand and turned to enter the crowd again, but was promptly pushed back. She almost lost her balance when Zahra grabbed the back of her high collared shirt and tugged her backwards.

"Try to stop being a prick for one second and answer the question." The threat was easily heard in her voice. There was no way she was letting the twisted girl go.

Maria rolled her eyes yet again as she was swiftly spun around to face the irate assassin.

"You think I would give up the chance to mess with your head? Those three days must have damaged you more than I thought if you can't work even that out for yourself." She said. "But I must say I am rather disappointed with your lack of reaction about Altair. It is making me second guess your orientation."

"She really does have the self preservation instincts of a brick, doesn't she?" Someone muttered in the crowd.

"I suppose you are going to try and run away, aren't you?" Zahra teased. "What was it you called it? Oh yeah, a strategy that would ultimately defeat me."

"Can you shut up? Your voice is really unnecessary." Maria moaned as she rubbed an ear. Zahra scowled.

"And your birth was unnecessary." She quipped, letting go of Maria's shirt. A few of the partygoers chuckled at her comment.

"I can see that you have been doing some thinking during your time in the Animus. How long did it take to come up with that one?" Maria retorted as she took several steps back.

"Shouldn't you already know? After all, you were the one who _stopped it!" _Zahra said scathingly.

"I would have thought by now that time would have taught you to look beyond your rage." Maria intoned sagely. "A girl of your age should not hold such anger."

"Now now, girls. Let's put away the claws and eat some cake." Blaize, the ever suave young man, said in a placating tone. Zahra hissed at him like a cat.

"You get 'em, Zahra!" Someone in the crowd hollered. Others soon joined in, all attempting to get Zahra to injure her fellow assassins. And people thought _she _was unhinged. If she was Maria, which she most certainly wasn't, she would have reported all of them for violence against a comrade.

"You guys are all idiots." She called out nonchalantly even as she hefted a rather large piece of cake in Maria's direction. The effect was instantaneous. Maria's eyes widened and her mouth opened to let out a scream of horror. A trail of the ice cream topping snaked its way down her neckline and into her dress, evoking a choked shriek from the girl. The look of shock and disgust that wound its way onto her face was something Zahra would cherish forever.

"Food fight!" Blaize shouted, his fangs glinting in the starlight. Zahra turned just in time to get slapped in the face with a cream pie. Laughter erupted from all sides at the comical situation. The action seemed to tip the balance and within moments the courtyard was a mess of flying food and soiled costumes. It was quite colourful, all the different types of food flying through the air, framed by the backdrop of the multi coloured stars, and with the DJ playing some type of throbbing base music, the night had gone from a confrontation between two rivals to all out childish warfare.

_'That had to be planned.' _She thought, wiping the cream out of her eyes. Smiling vindictively, she wrapped her fingers around one of the polka dotted cupcakes and hurled it with all her might at the madly cackling, alien costumed assassin holding a pie tray. It hit the assassin straight in the eyes and they fell over with a yelp, being pelted with other food when the nearby assassins saw the easy target.

By the time the Marco from interrogation and Joshua Barnes the wannabe Nazi rolled past, fighting furiously over the possession of a bowl of chocolate sauce from the fondue fountain, Zahra decided that she should make her escape before she was drawn in any further; though her fears were unfounded as the Master was _not _there with the flushing machine, her mind still recoiled from her last experience in a free for all.

Ducking and weaving through the crowd, avoiding slipping on smears of jelly and jumping over wrestling assassins, Zahra made her way out of the courtyard, picking up more than a few stains in the process. When she finally tumbled out of the crowd her ruffled white shirt was more garish than a rainbow and someone had stolen her hat.

Compared to the crush of bodies in the courtyard, it was incredibly open in the wide street lined with those plastic houses. Zahra looked up and took a deep breath, taking in as much of the cool, fresh air as she could. It was soothing when one had been breathing in the hot, dry air of Syria.

How many days had she been in the Animus? In reality it was three but inside it was four. Only four days and so many things had happened. How badly had she messed up the timeline? Not that it mattered but it was an interesting thought. After all, how many people had she affected through the various murders and her interactions with others? Like Fadil and Altair.

_'Oh, right. They work together for the Brotherhood.' _She sighed at the memory, staring at the scintillating stars. If only she could join them, and watch humanity for an eternity, laughing as they stumbled along trying to find out what the true meaning of life is. Everything would be so much easier. No murders, no manipulative Masters, no crazy, computer generated books that have a cruel sense of humour.

_'It's never going to happen. No one escapes the Brotherhood.' _Like that Desmond character who she had met a few times. He hadn't been able to escape; but it had been the Templars who picked him up and used him as a lab rat, not the Assassins. She didn't really know what had happened to him, only that it had something to do with the original Animus. Her tutors had probably told her somewhere along the line but everything to do with history that wouldn't affect her personally was deemed unimportant to her.

_'Hah, and now have lived in history. Way to go, Zahra.' _Chuckling humourlessly, she began to stroll down the quiet street, further away from the fight that showed no signs of stopping behind her. Thoughts about problems such as her non-killing policy were for another time. For now it was enough to simply enjoy not having anything to do, even if the thought of those disturbing crow-gnomes was dogging her every step. She did _not _want to meet those again, now that she knew she was still in the Animus and not high off mushrooms.

An ominous squawk, followed by the clattering sounds of china on wood, broke her thoughts, and with reluctant movements, she twisted her head around to look behind her. And promptly began to sprint in the other direction.

"Damn you, Maria!" She cursed aloud as she ran through the square where she had met Maria and down another path. "What sort of sick and twisted mind do you have to create these things!?" The clattering only grew louder, and something swooped past her head, its talons raking through her hair. She spared a second to glance up and almost flinched at the sight. They were truly ugly specimens; their eyes were beady; their body was made of porcelain; and atop their black heads were cracked and broken pointed hats. At least four wheeled around her head, the others still running after her on their stumpy legs.

She continued to run, making swift turns down any branching roads. It didn't do a lick of good. _'How in the world can these things run so fast? I mean, come on! Their legs are only an inch tall!' _Never mind the fact that they shouldn't be able to fly, being made of china.

A crash bounced off the walls and Zahra glanced behind her again to see that one of the hybrid gnomes had tripped and caused a domino effect with the others. Soon they were all flailing on the ground, their wings slapping against the ground uselessly. It would have been funny if not for the fact that several of the strange creatures were circling her overhead.

"Just go and crash into a telephone wire!" She screamed at them as she skidded around a corner.

Only to stumble to a halt in an effort to avoid crashing into the man who was a carbon copy of Robin Hood. The Disney version. He even had fox ears and a tail.

"Don't worry, I will protect you." The smile he sent her way would have been dashing if not for the large amount of fangs it put on display. With one swift movement he sent an arrow flying through the air to hit one of the hybrid crow-gnomes directly in the eye. In quick succession the other three were sent diving towards the ground, arrows sticking out of various body parts.

Zahra blinked and turned around to face her rescuer once more. Not knowing what to do in the odd situation, she merely nodded her thanks. The foxy man sketched a low bow and walked past her with a jaunty two fingered and a grin. She replied with a sort of uncertain wave at his back.

_'Well,' _she thought, _'that was certainly something that doesn't happen every day. I wonder who he was.' _Swivelling on her heel, she went in the opposite direction to the man, her mind happily occupied with the shallow thoughts of who the Robin Hood imitator could possibly have been. It was a welcome relief to running from mutant creatures and thoughts of one's possible escape from an ironclad society.

Her feet took her down so many random and twisting paths she soon had no sense of direction whatsoever. As she wandered further along, she noticed that the houses were slowly changing in design. Their roofs were becoming flatter; evening out till they were horizontal. The black plastic of their walls grew lighter in tone and thicker in size until it resembled the stone walls of Damascus. Tall, glass windows changed to small, square ones with ivy crawling over their edges. The green light from inside the houses dulled until it was nonexistent, as did the glow from the rooftops. Within only a couple of minutes the street had been transformed from the eerie yet peaceful world she had first awoken to into the place she had just left. How odd. Had Maria created this or had she just not created anything further than a half an hour minute walk away from the courtyard?

Pondering such thoughts, Zahra did not stop walking, rather marvelling at the change it was to see the usually bustling Damascus streets she passed silent and abandoned. The shops that had held bartering merchants now stood empty. In the starlight Zahra could just see through the open doorways, into the houses. In one house it looked as though everyone had suddenly upped and ran away; there was an overturned chair in the threshold. In another a plate of rice was still steaming on a table.

_'So there were people here recently?' _She wondered, periodically checking houses to find things much the same. _'If Maria truly created all this then she must have spent all her time designing in order to have it done in three days.' _

At that moment the sound of music wound its way to her ears. She cocked her head and listened intently, snatching pieces of tune and lyrics from the air. Some type of dance music, the kind that was used for a schoolgirl cheerleading team or in parks during mass aerobic classes. She shuddered at the memory of spandex clad old women. Another thing she needed to get Maria back for.

Curious, she followed the music and after several winding turns, and no strange hybrid creations, fortunately, she reached a rather idiotic scene.

Now, if she had been in any other frame of mind she probably would have reverted back to believing that she was dreaming or under the influence of mushrooms. To any other human being this would have been a totally acceptable response to what was in front of Zahra's eyes. However, after the strange events that had just occurred and the knowledge that it was Maria who was controlling this Animus-realm, Zahra didn't even consider that this might be a result of her own mind's nonsensical wanderings.

No, she just attributed it to Maria's rapid descent to utter insanity.

For, in a vast, green meadow enclosed by huge trees that towered over their surroundings, like the Damascus street Zahra had come to the end of, was the spectacle of hundreds of white and black robed men waging what seemed to be a to-the-death war on each other in total silence, with the sound of a most likely famous singer – not that Zahra would know which one, not being fond of such loud music – pounding through the air with a vengeance and the glittering multi coloured stars looking down from above.

Not knowing quite how to react, Zahra simply stood at the end of the street watching the muted carnage unfold before her eyes. Here was a perfect example of how unstable Maria truly was. If only there was some way to record this to show at the next Assassins movie night. That is, if she wasn't stuck in the Animus during that time, which, knowing Maria, was not an unreasonable concern.

It was really quite fantastic, watching the men fight. They all used some variation of martial art, with a streak of bar style brawling in there as well. She gave a respectful nod for the black clothed man who smashed his white cloaked opponent over the head with a common bar stool, noting the technique down for later use.

She spent several minutes simply staring in awe at the spectacle, losing herself in the memorisation of techniques and the enjoyment of watching something she truly loved – pure fighting, not to kill but to test one's skills and be pushed to the limit and beyond. This was what training was all about, no competition, just fighting your own limits.

After a while she was pulled from her thoughts by the sound of near silent footsteps behind her. She turned her head slightly and nodded with respect at the sight of Sordine, the hulking giant who was a source of great fear at the compound. He returned the nod and stepped sideways a little so he could lean against the wall of a house and cross his arms, the epitome of a stoic Assassin. The Master would be so proud.

"This isn't real, you know." Sordine spoke suddenly, startling Zahra. She frowned slightly but didn't comment, knowing that anything Sordine was going to say would come out and any prompting would be useless. She kept her gaze focused on the battle instead.

"None of what you have seen tonight is real. It is all something your subconscious made up while you are being taken to Masyaf by Altair and Fadil. Soon you are going to wake up, most likely in captivity." He continued. Zahra couldn't help the snort of derision his words provoked.

"You make me sound like a zoo animal." Sordine chuckled at that. "Anyway, the very fact that you are talking to me like this sort of suggests that this isn't some strange Animus party created by Maria. But I never would have imagined my conscience would be the black version of the hulk." It explained why the gnome hybrids were attacking Maria when she was meant to be the creator. She found it a strange feeling to know she was something her subconscious had created though. Seriously, was she that insane?

"That leaves the question as to whether I should be looking deeply at everything that has happened here and have a long self reflection period in which I come to understand my true self through the things my subconscious has created, though." She muttered.

Sordine chuckled again and pushed himself off from the wall. He strode over to Zahra and, in a completely out of character move, ruffled her hair affectionately.

"This is the part where I usually say something ridiculously thought provoking and wise, but I don't think you could handle something like that coming out of my mouth."

_'And the fact that your hand is on my head is _not _hard to handle?' _Zahra thought drily.

"So I will leave you to wake up and be interrogated by the psycho Master of the Old Assassins." He finished, ruffling her hair one last time and striding towards the battle.

"Ah, wait!" She said in an effort to stop him from leaving. She immediately regretted it when he glanced back, an eyebrow raised and amusement obvious in his eyes.

"Do you know who Mercury is?" She asked, her voice disgustingly meek to even her own ears. Sordine's reaction didn't help her growing embarrassment. He tossed his head back and let out a bark of laughter.

"You can't figure that out for yourself? What would Maria say?" He sketched a two fingered salute and disappeared into the carnage, Zahra scowling.

_'There must be something wrong with me if all this is my subconscious. And – Oh great, is that a chair.' _She had time to think before the bar stool crashed into her head and she was knocked unconscious _yet again. _

Before she blacked out her mind flickered to the injustice of being able to feel pain in her own mind.

* * *

_"Female . . . parents . . . ran away . . . that possible?" _She woke without moving an inch, trying to make sense of the words that were floating around her. Her strange dream was already scurrying from her mind, leaving only imprints of strange creatures and pirates that were enough to mess with her thought processes. Where was she again? Oh, that's right, some Masyaf, most likely, the headquarters of the Old Brotherhood.

"She is awake." A deep, old voice said, bringing her back to the present. She opened her eyes now that there was no use pretending to be unconscious and took in the sight of the most infamous Master of the Brotherhood to be instated.

He was standing with his hands behind his back, Altair by his side. She spared the Assassin a wink – what did she have to lose? – but examined the Master with an intensity not many people usually warranted in her book. He had a thick, grey beard that reached to the bottom of his neck, which was swathed in the red and black cloth that made up his robes. The robes were embroidered with silver thread, and edged with a deep, blood red; the same colour as the sash that hung from a thick, heavily embossed waistband that stopped the tails of his white shirt flying freely where they could get in the way of his trouser clad legs.

From what she could see, he had two knives hidden in his sleeves, two more in his boots, and a whip wrapped around his waist but hidden by the waist band. Maybe a sword was strapped to his back under his robes, but there was no way for her to tell with him facing her.

She finished observing all within a few seconds, and trained her eyes on his. Though his eyes were partially hidden by his black hood, they still burned with power that she could never hope to replicate. So this was what it meant to be a Master of Old. Not that her Master was any less frightening, but he had no need to express his power in such a way. There were other ways he could enforce his law, such as the flushing machine. In this time the only way to be a Master was to either defeat or be chosen by the former Master. From what she had learnt about him, he had done the former.

"What is your name?" He asked, his tone brooking no argument. Unfortunately for him, a Zahra tied to a chair was never one to answer questions straight on.

"You know, asking someone a question like that without first introducing yourself could be considered rude. Then again, mystery always adds to a person's allure." She gave a not-so-innocent smirk. To her disappointment he didn't even blink, unlike Altair whose grip on his sword visibly tightened. Was this going to be a rerun of the Abbas and the old man?

"You will answer the question, girl, or else I will make you answer it." The Master intoned. She rolled her eyes exasperatedly.

"If you don't tell me your name I am going to have to make one up." She warned. "And I may come up with something incredibly embarrassing. Something that will sound utterly ridiculous when Altair here screams for your help." She nodded to the stoic Assassin who she could feel glaring at her.

"Let me interrogate her, Master." Altair spat out. The old man only shook his head.

"I think Edward will suit you nicely. I could just imagine the sun sparkling off your marble skin like an over sized disco ball. Or how about Hadwin? Just to be ironic. Ah, having Hadwin screamed out in the middle of a _session _would send shivers down my spine." She mused. Altair's glare deepened.

"I am Al Mualim." Al Mualim stated without fanfare. Zahra feigned an expression of acceptance, if not total understanding, while she was inwardly wondering why he didn't use his real name. It wasn't as though Rashid ad-Din Sinan was all that bad of a name. Then again, when one could introduce themselves as 'the teacher', who wouldn't? It was a name that struck fear into the hearts of all those who heard it. After all, he may pound the rules of how to keep the peace into your poor, vulnerable mind when you least expected it.

Zahra covered up a snicker with a cough. Her survival instincts told her that laughing at someone who had taught people like Abbas and Altair everything they know was not a good idea.

Altair, on the other hand, was not fooled by her cough. He had learnt something about this enigmatic person during her strange game of backgammon and one of them was that when she coughed like that it was usually because she found something funny. However, he didn't spare a moment to think about why the girl was laughing; there were more important things to be worrying about.

"What is your name?" Altair said menacingly. The girl just snorted inelegantly.

"How sad; you've forgotten it already? And I went through so much trouble picking it out." She sighed. Altair was about to take a step forward when the door was suddenly flung open and a junior Assassin came tumbling inside.

"What is it?" Al Mualim questioned, his eyes not shifting from their gaze on the girl.

"Master," the boy, barely above sixteen, panted. "Fadil wishes to speak with you. He has awoken in the infirmary." Al Mualim's eyes narrowed nearly imperceptibly. He turned to Altair, fixing him with a stare.

"Altair, question the girl. We need to know everything she does in order to understand how far the spy in our organization has burrowed. I will be back shortly." Altair nodded curtly and bowed as Al Mualim left the room, following behind the young junior Assassin. The door shut with a slam, leaving Altair alone with the tied up girl with only three candles as a light source.

"Well, Altair Ibn-La'Ahad, we now have some time to get to know each other better. Why don't you start with what happened when you knocked me unconscious?" Qayin grinned.

* * *

TheOneWhoRulesThemAll: This was originally meant to be a joke chapter, and most of it is, apart from the little hints I have given you throughout it as to Zahra's true insanity and how her subconscious wishes for the friendly touch of another human being and blah blah blah. I am sure you can find everything.

Other than that, this is meant to be a note about Hadwin. Hadwin an Old English name for War Friend, which I am taking to mean friend-of-war. The irony part comes from the fact that Al Mualim is meant to be a great lover of peace, and is 'trying' to fight the Templars from creating war in the Holy Lands, which they have already being doing for several decades by this point. Also it is Old English, so it came from a country where the Templars spawned from and for those who know the ending of the game, it is pretty ironic. Hehe, I am so easily amused.

Anyway, I apologise for the length of time it took to get this out. Honestly, the next chapter will hopefully come out sooner but don't bet on it.

Thanks for reading


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